Harry Potter and the School for Pureblood Wizards
by Mikril-dey
Summary: (DMxHP) Before Harry Potter ever had a chance to go to Hogwarts, Voldemort had taken over. A cruel joke had been played as Harry received his first letter from Hogwarts. To make things worse, he catches the eye of the ‘Prince’ amongst pureblood wizards.
1. On Platform Nine and Three Quarters

**Harry Potter and the School for Pureblood Wizards**

Summary: Before Harry Potter ever had a chance to go to school, Voldemort had taken over. Tauntingly, a cruel joke had been played as Harry received his first letter from Hogwarts. To make things worse, he catches the eye of the 'Prince' amongst pureblood wizards.

Chapter rating: PG-13, I think there's a tiny bit of malexmale attraction if you squint, so rated for slightly controversial themes

Pairing: DMxHP with minor SBxRL

Warning: slash, fluff, lemon, power differentials (this story _will_ contain gay relationships, so if you don't understand the implications, please refrain from reading).

Type: AU, romance, drama

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, Raincoast Books and others.

Dedication: To Emi, beta and friend. May this fic be fluffy enough for you.

Chapter 1: Onto Platform 9¾

"Alright," one wizard called over the crowds. "Purebloods to the front. Mudbloods into the last three cars. There won't be enough seats for all, so move!"

Harry pulled his tattered trunk behind him slightly miserably. At first, when he had received the letter from Hogwarts, he had been thrilled. A chance to leave the Dursleys! Learn magic!

But as soon as he'd arrived at Diagon Alley, he saw a sign that magically scrolled for him. It had told him that halfbloods and mudbloods were only allowed to walk on the side of the streets. Purebloods in the middle.

He had finally arrived at the bank after asking for directions from four people, three of which had yelled him for daring to talk to a pureblood. The last woman was kindly, and had even taken him to Gringotts. Harry discovered that the money his parents had left him were to be taken away yearly to pay for pureblood things.

The woman had also showed him to a cobweb filled store and told him that the store manager there would be nice enough to give him books at the same price that purebloods would buy them. Then she had bought a wand for him, for it would've cost him a fortune to buy one himself without being a pureblood. Harry had been so touched by her kindness, he had almost cried after he went home.

Molly Weasley… Harry wished the woman was here right now… perhaps she would've told him what he was to do if he didn't get on the train. Uncomfortably, he made his way to the end of the train.

Eyes trained to the ground, it shouldn't have been surprising when he felt himself crash into a warm chest. His wand, pocketed carefully in his robes, spilled out. He shook his head, slightly dazed as someone picked up his precious wand and then extended a hand to him.

Harry took the offered hand gratefully. "Thank you."

"This is a half decent wand," the other commented, jerking Harry upright. "How did a halfblood like you get it?" Harry swallowed and looked up at the other boy. He'd thought of himself as average height before, but there must be some claim to the whole pureblood thing. Aside from Mrs. Weasley, the purebloods were _tall_.

The other boy stood about half a head above Harry, with striking blond hair and gray eyes that seemed to see right through him. Unconsciously, Harry straightened, hand reaching behind him to make sure his things were still there. The blond inspected Harry's wand with an almost bored expression.

"A bit small," the boy said. "But good enough for a pureblood. Seven inches with… what is it, unicorn hair?" He pulled out his own wand, which was significantly larger. "Interesting. You must've stolen it from some poor pureblood student. It's too good for a halfblood."

"Give-" Harry's voice caught. He swallowed and tried again. "Please give it back."

Eyes narrowing, the taller boy tightened his hand around Harry's wand. Whether Harry was being overprotective or not, he didn't know, but the wand, _his_ wand, looked close to breaking.

"No!" Harry grabbed the boy's hand and tried to pry his fingers loose. "It was a _gift_! Just take something else of mine! I'm _not_ letting you take my wand!" After all, it was the first true gift he'd ever gotten; from a stranger, no less. It meant more to him than the eighty Galleons the wand must be worth.

Curiously enough, the fingers relaxed and Harry snatched back his wand. Backing away, he clutched the gift tightly against him, still wary of the amused smirk on the other boy's face.

The other boy studied him for a moment. His eyes lingered around the lightning scar, quiet beneath Harry's thick bangs. When he spoke, his voice held a slight taunt. "So you are the infamous Harry Potter, what an honor."

"You're rather interesting for a halfblood," the boy whistled and a jet black owl fluttered onto his arm from somewhere above. Harry hadn't noticed the creature at all. "If there's no room in the halfblood compartments, come to the front. Tell them Draco Malfoy gave you permission to be there."

Harry swallowed as the boy leaned in close. "I'll see you at Hogwarts, halfblood."

With the words still in Harry's ears, the boy strode away, black cloak billowing. He had to have been trained to walk like that, with subtle hand manipulations beneath the material or something, because there was no wind inside the train station.

Jerking himself out of his stunned silence, Harry pocketed his wand again. Casting a despairing glance over the last cars, where various young faces were crowded against each other. Most were standing.

Hurriedly, he joined the line. After a couple more students squeezed on, the train door closed, leaving Harry and about fifty others outside. Harry bit his lips, letting himself fall back as the other disappointed youths walked away muttering.

"I wonder what we're supposed to do," a voice asked from beside him. Harry turned, and saw that the speaker was a girl about his age, with bushy brown hair and an open, honest face. The girl noticed his gaze. "Do you know?" She asked. Harry shook his head.

"They can't just leave us here," the girl said reasonably. "For all we know, there's another train in an hour and we won't have to be crowded into five compartments."

Harry secretly doubted it, but outwardly, he shrugged and looked to where some of the other halfblood or mudblood students were beginning to sit down. The station clock chimed, informing them that the present train would depart within half an hour. He sighed.

Draco Malfoy, the boy he'd bumped into earlier said to come to the front… but something wasn't right about the invitation. Who was he anyway?

"Maybe," Harry said.

"Of course," the girl said briskly. "You're a first year too, right? Name's Hermione Granger."

"Harry Potter." For a moment, she only stared at him with a shell-shocked expression. Harry shifted his feet slightly, disturbed by her reaction. Was his name so strange? The boy earlier had also called him the '_infamous_' Harry Potter. Since when was he well known in any way?

"Harry," the girl said disbelievingly. "Harry Potter. Why were you even enrolled in the school? One would think-"

"The two of you are first years?" An older youth asked, scratching a hand absently at his arm. Under that arm, he cradled a strange white box.

"Yeah," Harry said. "And we're not sure when the next train would come in."

"Not until next week," the older youth said cheerfully. "Some people enjoy having an extra week of holidays. The teachers don't really penalize you for it, and you'll just have to try to catch up to the rest of the class somehow."

"We'll be missing _classes_?" Hermione looked horrified. "That's really not a good way to start off the year. Isn't there some way we could get there faster? Any way at all?"

"Nope," the youth said, the same annoyingly cheerful voice in place. "Sorry kid, but you'll see the merits of another week of holiday soon. The course load is _horrid_."

"Oh," Hermione said quietly, but Harry could see that she was upset.

"Um… let's go the front, Hermione," he said, surprising himself. His two companions looked at him in surprise. Harry nearly bit his tongue as he realized what he had just suggested. "I mean… we can sneak on, can't we? It's not like there're neon signs on us that say we're not pureblood."

"Impossible," the other boy scoffed. "The purebloods all know each other. You'd stick out like oranges among watermelons. But-" his eyes flashed excitedly. "If you're gonna sneak on, take this for me." He handed Harry the white box.

"What's in it?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"When you sneak on, try to find the Weasleys." Harry felt his face light up. Mrs. Weasley's relatives went to Hogwarts too? "Give this to the twins. Tell them that Lee Jordan sends his love and to use her wisely. Preferably set her on Ron when I'm there."

"Her?" Hermione echoed. Grinning the older youth, Lee Jordan, reached over and pulled the box's lid slightly ajar.

Hermione stifled a scream and Harry nearly dropped the box as a long, furred leg poked out. The orange and black leg waved frantically before shrinking inside the box, and another set of legs poked out again. "She's my treasure," Lee Jordan said proudly. "Had her since she was a baby barely half an inch large. Grown magnificently, she has."

"It's a taranchula," Hermione said faintly, stepping away. Harry gulped and hastily shut the box.

"So take it to them for me," Lee Jordan laughed. "And tell them I'm enjoying my week off." Hermione made a noise of disgust and glanced nervously at the front of the train, where all of the purebloods were already aboard.

"Do you really mean it Harry?" She asked.

Too late to take anything back now. Harry nodded, feeling slightly sick. But then- if he missed this train, he'd have nowhere to go for a week. The Dursleys certainly wouldn't take him back. Even worse, they'd laugh and tell him he'd been fool by '_those_' people and force him into some school for delinquent children before he could blink.

"Let's go," he released his breath. The two of them made their way casually towards the front of the train. Harry became very self conscious about his shirt (which was several sizes too big for him) and his trunk (the tattered one he'd salvaged after the Dursleys had thrown it out). It rattled and made awfully conspicuous noises as they boarded the train at the sixth ccar.

Harry blinked. Two of the compartments were shut tightly, and the two that were left open were completely empty. Moreover, it seemed as though nobody was even going to use them. Two expensive-looking black trunks were thrown carelessly into the middle of one, and a bottle of what looked like clear orange juice was spilled on the floor of the other.

Nervously, the two first-years sat, uncomfortable in one of the splendid compartments. The seats were leather and a deep royal blue with silver edgings. The windows were lined with filigrees in black and gold.

"Well…" Hermione said after a moment. "They _did_ have more compartments than students, and who would want to stay in one of these alone?"

Harry shook his head, indicating that he didn't know.

A man outside shouted that all students should be aboard the train and it was delayed due to some missing pureblood. The doors shut and locked themselves magically, and taking away the last chance they had to change their minds about sneaking on.

"Harry," Hermione said. "I meant to ask earlier. Why were you enrolled? I would've thought…"

"I don't know," Harry said, feeling a little annoyed. "Why shouldn't I be here? My parents were both wizards, aren't they?"

"You mean you don't know?" The girl asked incredulously. Immediately she dove into the bag hanging off one shoulder and began to fish. Raising her head momentarily, she said, "haven't you read the History of Magic text book they assigned us?"

"No," Harry said, confused. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Here," Hermione flipped through the textbook she had just pulled out. She seemed to know exactly what she was looking for and soon pushed the open page in Harry's face. "Read that paragraph at the very end. Beside that picture of the witch with glasses."

So Harry read, tuning Hermione's voice out. "That witch is Sibyll Trelawney. She first came up with the Prophesy…"

_Harry Potter, at age one, had miraculously defeated the Dark Lord when he raided their house, surviving with only a lightning-shaped scar. Experts theorize that it was his mother, Lily Potter's last spell at work. It wasn't until six years later that the Dark Lord regained his former body and overthrew the Ministry. To this day, Harry Potter, who once held high hopes of being the Savior of the wizarding world, lives with his muggle relatives, unknowing of his heritage._

_The Dark Lord implemented…_

Harry felt sick as the train slowly rolled out of the station. "I-" he swallowed. "I- I don't- I don't understand… This… it's my _name_- but… but-"

"It's alright, obviously they never told you," Hermione said, closing the book. Harry began to protest but she had a stern expression. For a moment, she seemed older than eleven. "I'll tell you what happened and then you can look it up yourself. The textbooks are alright, but there are some other history books I saw that said you were just a hateful child and really twisted the truth, blame the Dark Lord."

Harry nodded dumbly, and Hermione began explaining, right from the beginning with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Hermione told it to him like a history lesson, but in the end, she said, very gently, "You're a lot of people's hero, Harry, but the sworn enemy of the people that runs the school right now… so I don't know why you were still accepted."

He was lying down now, face buried into the thick blue seat. His parents… not dead in a car crash… He wasn't just another student… but the sworn enemy of every pureblood in the school… Oh lord…

"I think…" Harry said weakly. "I'd rather go to Uncle Vernon's delinquent school… about now."

"Well it's too late," Hermione sighed. "You have to make the best of it. They probably wanted you there as somebody's cruel joke. They figured you'd find out eventually, and it won't be pleasant."

At that moment, the compartment door slid open. A middle-aged witch pushed a cart filled with sweets and smiled kindly at them. Harry heard his friend's intake a breath beside him and knew he was dead.

"Anything you want off the cart-" she stopped, eyeing Harry's shabby trunk suspiciously. Face angry, her voice was deceptively soft. "You aren't purebloods."

"No…" Hermione whispered. "We're not. But it's just- we didn't want to miss school and-"

"Be quiet," the woman snapped. Harry reeled back, slightly shocked at her change of expression. Obviously the kindly mother attitude had just been a mask. "The two of you have absolutely no consideration for rules. What are you? Halfblood or mudblood?"

"Mudblood," Hermione whispered, and Harry could tell she was dangerously close to crying.

"We have permission from Draco Malfoy to be here," he said bravely. Both the cart woman and Hermione looked at him. Then the woman laughed.

"Draco Malfoy, as you claim," she sneered, "had been missing since this morning. Most of the purebloods have been driving themselves insane looking for him. We're not even sure if he's on the train at all."

Before Harry could protest, the witch raised her voice. "Prefects please! There're two mudbloods in the pureblood compartments. Remove them immediately."

Immediately, there were several loud _cracks_ and two shapes appeared in the compartment. Hermione's breathing quickened and Harry felt slightly dizzy as the purebloods began to appear. Unlike the regular students, they had different colored cuffs on their black robes and an elegantly carved badge pinned on their cloak.

"What seems to be the problem?" A handsome blond youth several years older than them asked politely. His cuffs were yellow and his badge had his name stitched on it with black thread. It read _Cedric Diggory_.

"It's obvious," the youth with green snapped. "We have mudbloods in one of our compartments. I say we stop the train and kick them off. Or-" his smile turned dark, "we could just kick them off and not bother about stopping."

"What are the two of you doing here?" The first youth, Cedric, asked, voice still pleasant.

Harry swallowed. "Well… a boy called Draco Malfoy said that if the last compartments are full, we could… come to the front."

"Draco Malfoy said that?" Cedric said thoughtfully. "But hasn't he been missing, Zabini?"

"Yeah."

"We'll go to the back right now," Hermione blurted. "Sorry about this-"

"Marcus, how should we handle this?" Cedric asked. As an afterthought, he added, "besides throwing them out the window." The dark haired youth scowled, more than slightly disappointed.

"Dock a hundred points from their House," he scowled. "And detention with Professor Malfoy for using his son's name as an excuse."

"And what House would they be in? They're first years and haven't been sorted." Cedric crossed his arms, looking slightly bored.

"Bah, has to be Hufflepuff, Diggory, look at them."

"You're suggesting I take points away from my own House?" Cedric raised an eyebrow. The corners of his lips twitched slightly in amusement. "Let's just take them to the front. If Draco Malfoy is found, we can ask him to verify their story."

"Fine," Marcus grumbled. "Make sure they don't touch anything, I'm going back." With a crack, he disappeared, leaving the two worried first years quietly shuffling from foot to foot. Cedric bowed slightly to the witch that pushed the food cart, and led Harry and Hermione towards the front.

"Are we… in trouble?" Hermione asked meekly.

"To be honest, a little," Cedric smiled. "At least with Malfoy. I don't know what possessed you to use him as an excuse, it's bound to be found out. If we catch him in a good mood, though, he might let you off."

"Why is this, Draco Malfoy so important?" Harry asked. The blond youth seemed nice enough. Surely there's no harm in asking… Cedric turned, eyes looking him over carefully.

"You are Harry Potter, aren't you?" He asked.

"Yeah," Harry swallowed, remembering how Hermione had stressed that he was the enemy of every pureblood wizard in the school. He felt himself shrinking under Cedric's critical gaze.

Finally, the youth's gaze returned to the path. They had walked by two completely empty cars, and Harry felt himself washed with the injustice of it all. _Terribly unfair,_ Harry thought. _That the rest of the students would not be able to get on the train._

"Draco Malfoy's father was the Dark Lord's second in command. According to the press, Malfoy had shown more potential than any wizard since the Dark Lord himself, even as a baby." The frown on Cedric's face showed the two first years that he didn't believe a word of it. "The Dark Lord had hand picked Draco Malfoy to be the next leader after him."

"So… he's like the prince of the Wizarding World?" Hermione gulped.

"Not quite to that extent," Cedric laughed. "Thinking about it… he's like Harry would've been if the Dark Lord hadn't taken over." His words seemed careless enough, but Harry shivered as Cedric shot him another look. He tried to comfort himself… at least they weren't as openly hostile as he'd expected…

Cedric opened the door to the fourth car. There was one compartment with open doors that had people in it… a _lot_ of people. There were four red-headed youths with faces sprayed with freckles. A pretty young woman with watery golden hair and another nervous looking boy sitting at the end. Also, a mountain of food on the chairs.

Two youths that looked like twins were deeply engaged in a heated discussion, and the youngest boy looked bored.

"Percy," Cedric nodded to the oldest red haired youth. Harry realized that the youth also had colored cuffs on his sleeves.

"Hey Cedric, on duty?" The youth named Percy nodded back, face looking forcibly stern.

"Unfortunately, yes," Cedric shrugged. "I need to take these two to the front, they aren't purebloods and they were using our compartments. I need to run things by Malfoy."

"Oh," Percy shrugged. "You know they found him, right? Draco Malfoy, I mean? He's in the first compartment right now, with his army of loyal fans. I think you'll have some trouble going through the second car. It's as crowded as the halfblood compartments."

"Really?" Cedric said idly. "Well, I'll take them straight there then. Thank you."

"Wait-" Harry swallowed. "If it is possible, I'd like to know. This Draco Malfoy, does he have blond hair and gray eyes? He's about half a head taller than I am, right? Um… does he have a black owl?"

The compartment blinked at him. Even the twins looked up from their conversation.

"Blimey-" the twins said in unison. Too late, Harry clapped a hand to his forehead, trying to smooth down his bangs so that they covered his scar. He didn't like the strange expressions he was receiving, and Hermione bravely stepped in front of him.

"You are-" One twin said. "Aren't you?" The other continued.

"We have no idea what you are talking about," Hermione said, with an attempt at a brisk voice.

"Harry Potter!" The youngest boy, who was about Harry's age, leaped from his chair. "I'm Ron Weasley! Can I shake your hand?"

Taken aback at the unexpected reaction, Harry felt his hand seized and pumped enthusiastically. "I- It's a pleasure," he stammered. Then it struck him. "You're a Weasley!" he exclaimed. "I met a Mrs. Weasley in Diagon Alley! Is she related to you? Molly Weasley?"

"Our collective mother," Percy said with a fair amount of dignity. "She mentioned meeting you. She was quite taken with you, says you're the most polite child she's ever met." Harry's face broke into a grin. There were nice people amongst the purebloods as well. He was beginning to be very nervous.

"Don't hog him, Ron," the twins pushed their brother, or at least Harry assumed they were brothers, aside. Hermione, a little bewildered, managed to move in time before Harry was practically assaulted.

"So tell us about it. How you defeated You-Know-Who that time?"

"It is our goal to come up with a joke that is so hilarious that You-Know-Who dies from laughing after hearing it," the other twin added. "Anything you can tell us, anything at all?"

Harry's shell shocked expression was still in place as Cedric cleared his throat. "Percy, we wouldn't want to keep Draco Malfoy waiting, so I'll just take them there now, alright?"

The Weasleys looked highly disappointed as Harry and Hermione were led away.

"Harry," Hermione hissed. "What about the box?"

"The box?" Harry echoed, then realized the white box with the taranchula inside was still pinned under his arm. "Oh no. I forgot completely. Um… excuse me, could I just go back for a mom-"

The door to the second car slipped open and exactly as Percy had implied, it was by far the most crowded part of the pureblood compartments. There were about twenty girls in each compartment, with the random bloke thrown in. This time Harry had the foresight to pile his bangs thickly to the front, covering his scar. Still, the three were stared at as they moved towards the first cart.

"Hold on, where do you think you're going?" A girl about the size of a boulder stood up and growled. "You're not allowed to go in there. Draco Malfoy is in there and told us to guard that door."

Cedric paused, then turned and gave the rock-like girl a disarming smile. "I apologize, I didn't catch your name."

"Bulstrode," the girl said, slightly thrown off by the taller, handsome youth. "Millicent Bulstrode."

"Well, Millicent," Cedric said politely. "I am the Prefect on duty right now, and I just need to clear things up with Mr. Malfoy. Would it be acceptable if I knocked?"

There was a pause. "Alright," Millicent Bulstrode finally muttered along with the rest of the car. So Cedric knocked, as Harry and Hermione awaited their doom.

"Come on in," a boy's voice ran from beyond the door, but it wasn't Draco Malfoy's voice. At least, Harry thought, not if the boy he met was Draco Malfoy. The door to the first car slowly slid open, and both first years held their breaths. Harry noticed that every student in the second car was craning his or her neck, trying to see into the first car.

The first car was not separated into four compartments, rather made into a single large space with sofas, drapes and a sizeable fireplace at one end. Decorations were noticeably different. Rather than solemn, almost antique colorations, the first car was almost entirely silver, with splashes of green.

All in all, very elegant with a subtle sense of style. Harry would have been able to fully appreciate its beauty if his heart hadn't been pounding as if it wanted to rip out of his chest. He swallowed as he let his eyes fall to observe the occupants of car one.

There were about ten people in the first car. Two behemoth-like boys with faces shaped like blocks lounged on the low couches closer to the door. Three girls, quite pretty, were off in a group, chatting quietly.

And there was the boy Harry had a run-in with earlier. Blond hair impeccably in place and feeding his black eagle owl with an almost bored air. Two others sat on his other side, also quiet.

"Excuse me-" Cedric began, closing the door behind them. Draco Malfoy cut him off, eyes landing on Harry, who nervously held his breath.

"It's you," Draco drawled. He lifted his hand slightly and the black owl lifted off his arm to stand on the back of his couch. The tension hung in the air as he stood up. Harry felt trapped. "I was under the impression that if I told you to come to the front, it means to find me."

Harry gulped, but then ground his teeth together and stepped forward. "You never specified."

"I overestimated your intelligence, then," Draco said with a smirk. "Perhaps that is a good thing." He paused. "What are you waiting for? Make yourself at home." He gestured to Hermione and Cedric. "Diggory, you can take the mudblood away now."

Harry felt a sudden surge of anger. "With your permission, Mr. Malfoy," he said, voice cold. "I think I'll make use of one of the empty compartments, since it is not being used anyway."

Silence crept up the walls of the train car, tingly and nerve-wrecking. Draco's smile didn't fade, but his eyes darkened slightly.

"No, Potter, I think you're staying in this compartment," he began walking over, gesturing to the two giant boys as he did so. Reluctantly, the two bodyguards stood up, flanking the blond on either side.

"Draco Malfoy," Cedric said good-naturedly, although Harry could see a tiny bead of sweat on his brows. "I understand that as the Dark Lord's heir, you are given certain privileges, but I don't think they extend as far as to threaten another student for any reason whatsoever."

Gasps sounded throughout the room. Open defiance was expected, perhaps from someone of lower blood, but from a fellow pureblood?

Draco's eyes flashed. "Anything else, Diggory?"

Cedric bravely continued. "Also, I'd ask you to be slightly more considerate. You delayed the entire train earlier this morning."

"Watch yourself, Diggory," a student said. "It's our Lord's heir that you're talking about."

"It's fine, Blaise," Draco said nonchalantly. "Thank you for telling me, Diggory. I will try to improve my own punctuality. However, I am not _threatening_ anyone, merely inviting this halfblood to stay in my own compartment out of the goodness of my heart. I suggest you not interfere."

Cedric thought for a moment, then seemed to decide he had risked enough of Draco Malfoy's anger for the first day in school. "Very well," he nodded courtly. "Harry, be sure to join the halfbloods when the train reaches its destination. I'll take your friend to the back."

Hermione grabbed Harry's sleeve. "Please, Mr. Diggory," she started. "You know who he is, what will Draco Malfoy do to him, given the chance. Harry doesn't even want to stay here."

Cedric shook his head, mouth tightly set. Hastily, he took her wrist and guided to the door. When Hermione refused to let go, Harry leaned in and whispered in her ear.

"I'll be fine, Hermione, don't worry. I doubt they can kill a student, really."

Finally, the girl and the prefect left, with Harry alone in a compartment with Draco Malfoy and his pureblood friends. The black haired boy jumped nervously as the door clicked shut behind him. No matter what words of comfort he had spoken to his new friend, he knew the truth.

Harry was frightened.

* * *

Author's Note: For those of you who'd read (or seen the title) of my other story, this one was meant to be lighter paced with a more normal romance, which means it's gonna be pretty boring for the first few chapters. I am hoping to keep myself away from extreme fluffism, but my beta loves fluff and said she'll never help me again if there isn't at least _some_… (sweat). For those of you who'd read (or seen the title) of my other story, this one was meant to be lighter paced with a more normal romance, which means it's gonna be pretty boring for the first few chapters. I am hoping to keep myself away from extreme fluffism, but my beta loves fluff and said she'll never help me again if there isn't at least … (sweat). By the way, she hasn't edited this yet. > 

I admit a lot of the characters would be OOC, like Cedric, but that's how I envisioned him if he grew up in a society that believes purebloods are way superior. He's not arrogant, but it had to have taken away a lot of his humbleness.

Please give this a chance. I'll love you for it. (insert something cute, like Draco and Harry cuddling)

Mikril-dey


	2. Three Cheers for the Taranchula

**Harry Potter and the School for Pureblood Wizards**

Summary: Before Harry Potter ever had a chance to go to school, Voldemort had taken over. Tauntingly, a cruel joke had been played as Harry received his first letter from Hogwarts. To make things worse, he catches the eye of the 'Prince' amongst pureblood wizards.

Chapter rating: K, I think there's a tiny bit of malexmale attraction if you squint, and there is reference to a malexmale couple, so rated for slightly controversial themes

Pairing: DMxHP with minor SBxRL

Warning: slash, fluff, lemon, power differentials (this story _will_ contain gay relationships, so if you don't understand the implications, please refrain from reading).

Type: AU, romance, drama

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, Raincoast Books and others.

Dedication: To Emi, beta and friend. May this fic be fluffy enough for you.

Chapter 2, Part A: Three Cheers for the Taranchula

"Harry Potter," Draco Malfoy smirked. "Come here." Harry didn't move, or more precisely, couldn't move if he ever wanted to live with himself again. If there was a way to wipe the arrogant smile off the other boy's face, Harry would've gladly begged for it. He clutched the white box tightly to him and stood his ground.

"Why?" He asked. "The view's just as nice over here." He plopped himself down in a nearby chair, clenching his teeth hard to expel the uneasiness in his stomach. For a moment, Malfoy said nothing, gaze growing colder by the second.

"Crabbe," he drawled. Harry felt his pulse quicken as one of the huge boulder-like boys responded. "Remedy this situation for me."

_Not here_, he prayed. _Don't let me be beaten up here. I get enough of that back with the Dursleys._ And he'd been naïve enough to believe that his fortunes would change. Not quite so easily.

The large boy named Crabbe didn't know what to do at first, and Harry would've found the blankly confused expression on his face funny any other time. One of Draco's other friends leaned in and whispered loudly, "He means bring Harry Potter over here, or beat him up, one of the two."

Crabbe didn't look any happier knowing that. Shifting his feet he slowly advanced towards Harry.

Harry's legs tensed, and he was sure he became paler.

Suddenly, Malfoy let out a long-suffered sighed. "Crabbe, just get out of the way."

Harry was able to breath again as Crabbe, mumbling dully, backed away. His wary eyes shifted to Malfoy as the other boy stood, stretching lazily like a cat. The giant eagle owl let out a screech of annoyance as its master brushed by, ruffling its feathers. It huffed once more before settling its unnerving predatory gaze on Harry's scared face.

"It seems," Malfoy drawled, leaning in close to Harry. "That we might've started off on the wrong foot." Harry frowned at the hand offered to him. "My name is Draco Malfoy, heir of Lord Voldemort. And you are Harry Potter, would-be savior of the world from said Dark Lord's clutches."

When Harry didn't react, Malfoy grabbed his wrist in a rough semblance to a handshake. His grip tightened as Harry tried to jerk his hand back. "And this," the older boy laughed. "Is a meeting that might one day be written in stories. You ought to say a few things to be remembered by."

"I'd rather not be remembered, or remember you at all, if it's all the same," Harry said coolly, finally succeeding in pulling his hand back. He'd probably pay for it, like life with the Dursleys had taught him, but at the moment, he didn't quite care.

Malfoy's eyes flashed. In one swift motion, he had snatched a small package from the basket beside the couch. "I'm prepared to forgive what you just said," his voice was nonchalant. "Take this."

Warily, Harry eyed the package he was given. "What is it?" He asked suspiciously. Perhaps it would explode when he opened it. He certainly wouldn't put it past the arrogant boy.

"That," Malfoy replied with a hint superiority, "is a Chocolate Frog. You eat it, Potter."

Harry resisted the question the bubbled up on his tongue. _It isn't a real frog, is it?_

His doubt must've shown on his face. "No it isn't a real frog, muggle," Malfoy sneered, eyes glued to his face. The room seemed tense in anticipation. "It's a perfectly normal piece of chocolate."

In retrospect, Harry shouldn't have trusted him. Shouldn't have trusted that amused, bored smile on the other boy's face. But he hadn't expected Draco Malfoy to be bored enough to lie about a frog.

When he slowly pulled the wrapping a part, the frog-shaped chocolate laid quietly between the plastic. Harry raised the frog to his lips and bit down. It was perfectly fine, the chocolate sweet and dark inside his mouth. He looked up to find Malfoy seated, and the rest of his friends had begun sharing frogs.

When he bit into the chocolate the second time, Harry felt the card. Carefully, he worked it loose from the wrapping and stared at the old man in the photo. A pair of half-moon glasses covered thoughtful eyes that stared pensively out at Harry. The man's long silver hair and beard seemed to glow in the lighting.

Harry's mouth dropped open as the old man blinked and smiled kindly out at him. He swallowed in astonishment as the old man slipped out of sight.

"What did you get?" Malfoy asked conversationally. Harry, figuring he meant the card, looked at the name.

"Albus… Dumbledore," he wasn't sure if he pronounced the name right when Malfoy's eyes bulged.

"Are you bloody serious?" He exclaimed. A couple of the other boys also jumped to their feet. In the next second, Harry found a crowd gathered around him. He clung on to the card as several heads leaned in to see it.

"It is!"

"I thought they took Dumbledore out of the cards years ago!"

"No, my friend got on, and wouldn't trade me for anything."

"Just the luck of Harry Potter," Malfoy sneered. "Getting the rarest card on his first try. Here, give it back. I've only got one of him, so I'll need a back-up. It's my Chocolate Frog, after all."

"No," Harry surprised himself by saying, pocketing the card protectively. He wasn't sure why, but the old man's kind smile, just like Mrs. Weasley back at Diagon Alley, gave him a warm feeling about his future. "The frog was a gift. What kind of people would give a gift then demand it back?"

Harry should've noted the dangerous glint in the other boy's eyes. Draco soon shrugged, stopped his friends angry words and went back to his seat. A few seconds later, he threw Harry another frog.

This frog looked the same as the first, and Harry didn't think twice about biting into it.

The frog croaked loudly, kicking its hind legs. Harry let out a loud screech as the frog crawled past his nose, knocking aside his glasses and settling into his hair. He was too busy trying to spit out the slimy, bitter taste in his mouth to care.

The room roared in laugher. The pretty girls in the corner giggled almost politely, the two huge boys laughed like broken steam trains, and Malfoy's other friends clutched at their sides, barely breathing through their mirth.

"Serves you right, stupid mudblood."

Malfoy himself was laughing loudly, elegant eyes gazing down at Harry in contempt. "I'm sorry, I must've given you one of the joke chocolates. You must be careful with those things, you never know what to expect in the Wizarding World."

Angrily, Harry wiped at his mouth. The frog fell from his hair, now bright green and slimy. It blinked a few times and quickly escaped under one of the couches.

He was seeing red. Bad enough to be informed that you'd be alone in a school full of pureblood wizards who hate you. He had to be hated by the 'prince' of the school as well.

Harry mustered as much dignity as his humiliation allowed him. It could've been a lot worse, he consoled himself. This was less painful than the regular jeers he received at school before.

Except here, there was no place to run. Climbing to his feet, Harry gathered the white box close to his side, he met Draco Malfoy's laughing gaze squarely. "Was there anything else you wanted, Malfoy?" He said stiffly. "If not, I'm going back to the back of the train."

"Not quite so fast, Potter," Malfoy waved. "Now that you're here, tell us of your muggle relatives, won't you? Is it true that they use _people_ to deliver mail? How long does _that_ take?"

Harry didn't answer, lips pressed tightly together. If he spoke right then, he would've started yelling at the boy who, in the new society he resided in, was ranked far higher than he.

"And what is this box? Something stolen from a pureblood, no doubt?" Wordlessly, throat tightening in anticipation, Harry let Malfoy take the box from him. His eyes trained themselves on Malfoy's pale fingers, digging under the lid and pulling.

The box seemed to open in slow motion, and for a moment nothing happened. Then Malfoy screamed, louder and higher than Harry had. His hand flailing, trying to dislodge the large hairy creature that clung to his fingers.

For a moment, everyone watched in horrified fascination as Malfoy struggled with the large spider, finally succeeding in flinging the creature to the floor. His scream stopped, and his wide eyes were locked on the disoriented orange bundle of legs frantically scampering around the floor.

Harry sprang into action as screams began erupting from the room. Snatching the white box Malfoy dropped, he scooped the taranchula off the carpet in a desperate, lucky move and tore out the door.

As the door slammed shut behind him, Harry distinctly heard Malfoy yell. "Blaise! I told you to lock the door!"

"I did! I don't-"

Dodging past a few inquisitive girls, Harry didn't stop until he was several carts away, panting hard. His heart was pounding hard. Already, he was imagining his next meeting with Draco Malfoy, in which he would most likely be killed. Harry let out a pained sigh, he really ought to have let Malfoy have the bloody card. But…

Harry took out the card once more and read:

_Albus Dumbledore, currently Headmaster of Hogwarts._

_Considered by many to be a wizard at the same level as_

_the Dark Lord, who is the greatest wizard of modern times._

_Dumbledore is particularly famous for the discovery of the _

_twelve uses of dragon's blood and his work on alchemy. Also  
the only known wizard to have struck a deal with the Dark_

_Lord on equal footing. Professor Dumbledore enjoys_

_chamber music and tenpin bowling._

Harry's future brightened as he stared at Dumbledore's picture again. Surely… surely this kind looking man would not allow the casual cruelty and mistreatment of half bloods and muggleborn to go too far. He slipped the card away again.

"Harry, this is a miracle, you're still alive!" Harry's head snapped up at the voice, and his slightly foggy glasses showed him one of the Weasley twins, wide grin spreading from ear to ear. "Your friend Hermione would be ecstatic, she's been ranting like a textbook. Say, she doesn't like you, does she?"

"Why, you look awfully green," another voice piped up from behind the first Weasley. Harry reached up to clean his glasses. The other twin hoisted him up by his elbow, winking.

"You look like you've eaten one of our joke frogs, Harry, was Malfoy _that_ repulsive?"

* * *

Chapter 2, Part B: Hogwart's Insane Gamekeepers 

"Gamekeepers?" Harry echoed as he folded his T-shirt and jeans into his shabby suitcase. "Why would a school need Gamekeepers?"

"It's right next to the Forbidden Forest, that's why," Fred (or was it George?) said cheerfully. "Someone has to keep all those vampires and lethifolds and manticores from killing us in our sleep."

"Manticores are in Greece, and if there was a lethifold around, we wouldn't be going to school," Hermione shot back. Harry's head was beginning to hurt. He had no idea what they were talking about.

"So what are they like?" Harry asked.

"Insane," George said happily. "Utterly and completely insane. Snuck in so many illegal dangerous things. We got to see them too. Hogwarts is a better place for them."

"I would rather we have spells to protect us," Percy huffed. He was a prefect, and now saw all things fun as troublesome, according to the twins. "The Gamekeepers cause more danger than they prevent, remember those giant spiders last year?"

Ron accidentally caught his hand in his suitcase. "Ahhh!"

He blushed as everyone stared at him. "Bloody suitcase," he mumbled. "It always catches."

George nudged Fred. Fred nudged back. A wink passed between them. "Ron," Fred said pleasantly. "You forgot this."

Harry's eyes grew wide as George passed the white box to their brother, who absently took it.

Much to everyone's disappointment (Harry was sure that secretly, Hermione and Percy were a bit put off too), Ron merely glanced at the box before tossing it back at George. "Can't trick me this time. I don't remember a box like that."

The twins left the train in a huff. It was night then, and Harry's breath fogged in the chill. The platform was dark, with tiny blue lights wavering on the edges. Harry glanced to either side and saw that the front of the train, where most of the purebloods were, was brightly lit and cheerful. The other side was completely dark and the platform was tiny. Yelps reached them as several people fell off into the mud below.

Harry shivered.

Ahead of them, a lamp bobbed towards them. As it approached, Harry's eyes widened. The man bearing the lamp was a giant, standing almost twice Harry's height, face covered with thick beard.

"That's Hagrid, Rubeus Hagrid, Gamekeeper." One of the twins whispered to Harry.

"He's a half-giant," Ron said beside him. "The giants were all sent away, out of the country since the Dark Lord took over, but Hagrid's under the protection of Hogwarts. It's the only place in Britain that's not completely under the Dark Lord's thumb yet."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

Over the crowd, the half-giant waved to the students. "Secon' years and up! Follow me! Firs' years! Head down to the lake that way, mind yer step! Someone'll be there to pick you up!"

"Well, this is where we part," Percy said. "Ron, be careful."

"In case Malfoy bothers you," George said in a mock serious face. "Chuck this at him." Harry found himself holding the white box once more.

"Say hi to _him_ for me," Fred ruffled Ron's hair and they were off, leaving Harry, Ron, Hermione and the other first years by the dock. Draco Malfoy and his entourage glanced around, before stumbling onto a steep, narrow path that was utterly dark on either side. Hesitantly, the others followed.

"'Bout what you asked earlier, Harry," Ron said. Harry could see his small frown in the dark. "It's kind of a miracle, really. The Dark Lord had taken over just about everywhere else, and Hogwarts was practically the only place left, when one day the Headmaster left to meet with the Dark Lord. Somehow, they worked something out or something, and Hogwarts was left alone with just a few changes."

"The book explains it better," Hermione sniffed. "The Headmaster, Dumbledore, is the one wizard the Dark Lord ever feared. It would've been impossible to take Hogwards without an all out fight. They got to avoid that."

They rounded a corner and gasps ran through the student crowd. The path had opened to reveal a beautiful black lake, stretching for miles on either side of them. Straight ahead, across the lake, a castle was nestled in the embrace of a high mountain. Its highest towers perched at the top, reaching well into the night. The windows caught the moon's light and winked back at them like the stars.

"That's Hogwarts?" Harry gasped. He hadn't imagined anyplace like this existing outside of storybooks. And this magnificent display of spiraling towers and arching walls before him was better than anything in books.

"It's beautiful…" Even Hermione seemed wordless. The students fanned out beside the lake. For a few seconds there was an awed silence, before a voice somewhere down the shore broke through.

"Malfoy Mansion is bigger," a distinct drawl floated over to them. Harry frowned. Malfoy again. Trust the other boy to ruin a moment like this.

"What are we supposed to do?" Hermione wondered. "There's nobody here."

As if on cue, a distant rumble from the direction of Hogwarts. "Look!" Somebody shouted.

Harry squinted. Through the night, there was a sleek black shape hurdling towards them, going far, far too fast. Within seconds the shape pulled to an abrupt stop next to them, barely inches from hitting Ron and Harry.

It had happened too fast for them to realize what happened. As his heart slowed down, Harry saw that the shape was a tall man atop a shiny black motorcycle. It had been _gliding_ over the lake surface, leaving a trail of black water churning behind it.

The figure rose and a hand reached up to pull the hood back from his face.

A chorus of 'Oooh!'s from the first year girls (minus Hermione) greeted the man's face. Long, glossy black hair framed a handsome, aristocratic face. Sharp gray eyes floated over the crowd of hushed students.

"Sorry I'm late," the man laughed, voice deep and husky. "But of course, I am forgiven. Students, welcome to Hogwarts. My name is Sirius Black."

"The other Gamekeeper," Ron whispered excitedly. "He joined Hogwarts _after_ the Dark Lord took over like a lot of the other witches and wizards. Couldn't stand the rules that were in the world outside, you know?"

"Now," Black said, "we'll be making our way across the lake on those boats over there shortly. But first of all, I would usually permit horseplay, but tonight's too cold for anyone to fall into the lake, so you'll have to refrain from that. Keep a tight hold on your belongings, because if they fall in, they belong to the squid, simple as that."

He paused, eyes scanning the crowd again. "Since my usual partner isn't here, who would like to ride on the bike with me?"

Most of the girls' hands shot up, even Hermione's, who lowered it just as quickly and looked sheepish.

Black stared at the many raise hands and promptly changed his mind. "Too bad," he grinned. "The backseat of my bike is reserved. Everyone get onto the boats. No more than four of you on one please."

Harry was about to follow Ron and Hermione onto a boat when a hand grabbed his wrist.

"Join me," Malfoy's slow drawl sent shivers down Harry's back. Harry looked back at the boat and saw Hermione staring at them in horror. Ron half rose.

"Malfoy, Harry wants to sit with us," Ron said bravely. "You- you ought to let him. Black would-"

"Black, over there," Malfoy's voice was silky, "is my cousin. He's gone rather insane at the moment to refuse the Dark Lord's job offers, but he'll come around soon."

Harry was half dragged to one of the boats further down the shore. He climbed in nervously, watching Malfoy's moves from the corner of his eyes. They were in a boat with two others of Malfoy's friends, the boy he was pretty sure was called Blaise, and the other one he didn't recognize.

"Still have your little guardian, I see," Malfoy said dryly, looking pointedly at the box containing Lee Jordan's taranchula. "Are you that scared of me, Potter?"

Harry said nothing, glancing out across the boats to where Ron and Hermione were both anxiously looking back at him.

"Hey," Malfoy noticed his gaze, irritated. "It's only polite to pay attention to the people you are with, Potter. Or did your parents never teach you that?"

"Shut up-" Harry gritted his teeth. "Don't talk about my parents."

Malfoy grinned. They were now in the middle of the lake. The black waters below them churned, and Harry had the uneasy feeling that some creature lurked in the depths.

Suddenly, without warning, Malfoy reached over and gave him a hard shove.

Crying out, Harry toppled into the water. The cold seeped into him. Desperately, Harry flung out his hand and grabbed at the boat's edge, legs kicking in the water. Choking, he tried to keep his head above the water as the boat kept moving forward. The box floated away, and Harry could hear the desperate scrambling of the spider as it sought to escape its flooding cage.

"So Potter," Malfoy leaned over to grab his arm. "Do you want me to save you?"

Harry coughed. His glasses were caught on his robe collar, precariously balanced. It lingered their for a brief moment before sinking out of sight beneath the water. He was cold… so cold…

"Well, if you beg me, I might consider pulling you up," Malfoy pretended to be in thought. "So what do you say?"

_No, go kill yourself,_ was what Harry wanted to say, but his teeth were chattering too hard for him to speak. After a moment, Malfoy sighed and rolled up his robe sleeves.

"Stubborn prat, I'll bet you're going to be in Gryffindor."

Before Malfoy could pull him up, Harry felt someone grab his robes from behind. He coughed a few more times as he was effortlessly lifted clear of the water and settled in a hard leather seat.

"Same as ever, I see, Malfoy," Black's low voice rumbled. There was a hint of humor in it, but when Harry looked up, Black's eyes were flashing. "Blatant disregard for rules, picking on someone new to the Wizarding World, how very like you."

"Black," Malfoy replied in annoyance. "What are you doing here?"

Harry stopped shivering as his robes miraculously dried. The motorcycle under him was giving off waves of warmth as it rumbled. Black absently handed him the white box, also dried, but the taranchula inside scrambled wildly about, still jittery from its recent trauma.

"Playing hero, obviously," Black snorted. "Be careful, Malfoy. Here at Hogwarts, I don't care if you're the Dark Lord's heir, you're just another annoying student to me."

Malfoy glared. "Why are you here, anyways? You're a perfectly capable pureblood wizard from a good family. You could've had any job you wanted, but you're here being Hogwarts' bloody Gamekeeper."

"Ah, but what other job lets you wrestle with dragons and giant spiders?" Black's motorcycle slowly circled Malfoy's boat. His eyes were practically glowing. "You never know, Malfoy, when my hands would accidentally… slip… as I'm holding onto an enraged unicorn with you nearby. Wouldn't want your eyes to be gouged out, of course."

Harry decided he liked Black. He was a bit put out by the man's loud barking laugh and confidence at first, but the man, despite his rough attitude, seemed likable enough.

It was one of Malfoy's friends that said it, voice a loud whisper. "That's not it, Draco. My brother told me there's a rumor that Black's soft on one of the professors."

Harry squinted. Perhaps it was just him, but Black's face colored, before the natural grin was plastered back on.

"Really?" Malfoy was back in control, laughing again. "How very… sweet… Black, you'd think a person of your caliber would have no problem wooing said professor without lowering yourself to being a stupid Gamekeeper."

"You'll just have to wait to find out, Malfoy," Black replied easily. "Whether such a professor exists or not. But I don't suppose you'd be laughing once you fall in love, just wait for it."

Malfoy smirked. "Oh, _I'd_ never have problems. You forget who I am, Black. I could just pass a law that says a proposal from a higher ranked pureblood cannot be turned down." He stared meaningfully at Harry. "And there's nobody ranked higher than I am besides the Dark Lord. Who knows, you might even reap some benefits from that law, Black."

Harry half expected Black to get angry, but the man merely laughed. "Oh, you'll have to wait, Malfoy. If you truly feel that way after you fall in love, then I applaud you. But hey, what do I know? I'm only an adult."

Before Malfoy could reply, Black had spurred the engines on his bike and sped ahead. Harry hastily grabbed onto the seat as the wind began whipping past him.

"So you're Harry, Harry Potter, right?" He heard Black call over the roar of the cold wind.

"Yeah," he managed to shout back. This man shouldn't hate him for it, right? The motorcycle slowed as they neared the ivy covered cliffs. Black turned to regard him.

"I knew your father," Black said quietly. It was the first time Harry heard the man speak seriously. "He was a good man, a good wizard. It was a pity you had to grow up without knowing him."

Harry swallowed. "I know," he said just as softly. "I wanted to meet them."

The taranchula chose that moment to jump around the box. Harry peered at the box worriedly. "It isn't dying, is it?"

"Let's see." Heedless of Harry's protest, Black opened the box entirely and reached his hand in. He withdrew his hand a moment later, with the spider nervously flicking hairs on his palm.

"Ah, this one," Black said good naturedly. "Don't worry, it's just a bit angry because there's no dirt around. It's a Gold Knee, gentle as a puppy."

"A puppy…" Harry said faintly. He could in no ways associate the large, hissing creature to puppies.

Black carefully lowered the taranchula back into the box. "Brings back memories," he said wistfully. "Used to have a spider myself. Cobalt Blue, she was meaner than the devil."

By then the other boats had also arrived. A couple people exclaimed to find Harry riding with the Gamekeeper, and he sent a sheepish grin to Ron and Hermione. '_I'll explain later,'_ he mouthed.

"Alright, everyone duck," Sirius said. The boats and the motorcycle carried them through a wide opening in the cliffs, hidden by ivy. They were quiet as they passed through a dark tunnel. Harry was aware of Malfoy's annoyed glare at his back.

He breathed a sigh of relief as they docked at a sort of underground harbor and climbed off Black's motorcycle. He thanked the man politely.

"Hang on," Black said, rummaging through his pack. He handed Harry a small envelope. "You can do something for me, right? Give this to one of your professors. Professor Lupin. You can read it if you want, but just make sure to deliver it."

"Oh," Harry stared at the crisp white envelope. He hesitated. "Is this… for _that_ professor? The one you like?"

"Perhaps," Black smiled mysteriously.

"Harry!" Ron and Hermione ran up to him as they began climbing up a passageway in the rocks. "What happened? Where are your glasses."

"The squid has them," Harry sighed. "Malfoy pushed me into the lake." Hermione's mouth dropped open.

"And when Mr. Black specifically told us not to! The nerve of him," she said furiously.

"He's probably ranked higher than most of the professors here," Ron said dully. "Say, what did Black give you?"

"A note, he said to deliver it to one of the professors. He said we could read it, but-"

"Let's read it then," Ron said excitedly. Hermione stared at him in disapproval. "What? He said we could! We've got his permission!"

As curious as Ron was, Harry handed over the note:

_Moony,_

_Told you you'd be surprised. Congratulate me._

_Let's meet at the usual place tonight, I'll be waiting._

_Sirius._

Ron stuck out his tongue. "It sounds like a love note. I guess Fred and George were right when they said that Black fancied someone from Hogwarts."

"I don't think so," Hermione said. "It sounds perfectly innocent. It could be just to a friend."

"'_Meet at the usual place,_'" Ron said. "'_I'll be waiting_.' Does that sound like something a bloke would say to a friend? I'll bet you anything that the rumors are true. That he _does_ like this professor he's writing to."

"I think so too," Harry said as they exited the darkness and onto a grassy field covered in the shadows of the castle towers. "I asked him about it, but he just laughed."

"But if it was a love note," Hermione said, frowning, "why would he let us read it? It's kind of personal, isn't it?"

"Black's mental, that's all," Ron said. "That would be cool though, I've never heard of romances at Hogwarts before. But I hope the professor is young and pretty, Black's too cool to be paired up with an old hag."

"Everyone here?" Black called. "Very well, brace yourselves, ladies and gentlemen."

With that said, Black climbed the broad stairs of the castle doors and knocked three times on the elegant oak panels.

* * *

Author's Note:

Ah… It's been a long time… I'm thankful I finally regained the will to write. I was quite looking forward to introducing Sirius, a cookie to anyone that guessed who the second Gamekeeper was before the motorcycle. To answer the one main question readers had, Draco only slightly older than Harry in this AU. He is also a first year.

But even in the books, he had Crabbe and Goyle on the train. It doesn't seem too unnatural for him to know a lot of people going with him to Hogwarts, does it?

And right now… I'm sorry to say, but there's not much attraction between Harry and Draco. I mean… they're eleven years old. And that's the age that, according to my experiences, many girls and guys start to see the other gender (or in this case, the same gender). Right now, what I'm trying to do is to portray Draco in that stage when boys pick on the girls they like. So he's really very mean to Harry isn't he? Meaner than in chapter one, at least. Though hopefully his meanness isn't coming off as malicious or hateful… just… almost harmless pranks that even the Weasley twins might've pulled. And we all love the twins, don't we?

And you'd have to note that Harry, Ron, Hermione, Draco and most of the others don't know about Remus yet. They assumed that Black must like a girl. I just thought that'd be a little more natural this way. Not that any of them are homophobic or anything.

I don't claim to know anything about tarantulas besides what I read on the internet during my research. If I got the breed names or their tempers wrong, please tell me.

Anyways, thank you to everyone who was patient and waited for this update. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as you did the first.

Happy Emily: Hehehe… I was planning to update when you reviewed, so thank you!

DrOwNiNg In EbOnY: Oooh! Your name shortened is cool. I wish I'd thought of that. Mikril-dey… MD… well, that's a compliment. I'm not really a medical doctor… Aww… it'll be a while before Draco glomps Harry, I think. But we all must admit… that's SOOO cute!

Triola: Suspense over. Well… unless you'd consider this ending a cliff-hanger… It's not… really… Thank you, I hope you like this part too.

Life: Yay! I'm glad people enjoyed it. That's always nice. Tell me, though… would you consider this light-hearted?

Vanakuvixen: The more the merrier, right? So here's some more for you.

Rei0kitsune: Thank you! I hope I surprised you (both with my update and with what happened), and of course, I hope it was a pleasant surprise. XD.

Zooey: I haven't forgotten this story at all! Aww… I like the veela stories actually… Some of them are really, really good. But I'm glad you think my story is original. And know that there will be no veelas or girls-turned-boys in my story. Well, actually, I might mention the veelas, but that's about it. I… however, can't guarantee that Draco won't try to change Harry into a girl… emphasis on "try".

Bea: Never is a long time… ; I try… I really do… sorry about the really long wait. And I promise I will not abandon this fic.

Kagome: (sheepish smile) Draco is first year… like I tried to explain above. But I just thought that since, you know, he _is_ the Dark Lord's heir, there'd be plenty of people trying to suck up and sending their children to meet him and stuff. And of course, Draco and the Malfoys… being who they are, are never resistant to attention.  
Er… I actually didn't think it was that original. I mean… there are plenty of fics out there where Voldemort took over, right? And I'm actually trying to follow a lot of the things that happened in the original book. Hopefully, it won't make it boring though.

Addisonjade: Hopefully you aren't too disappointed, but Hogwarts hasn't changed _that_ much from the books. It's just that… I hope to keep the same awe-inspiring and intriguing feeling that the books have, so the schools won't be full of torture chambers and whatnot.  
And yes, the whole segregation thing will have a big, big impact on Sorting. You can probably guess what House is the most popular now… XP

Suckers love: Thank you!

Lita-2003: I fulfilled half of your demand, the update, but not soon. How's that? (wiggles eyebrows)

Sky: Yes… muaha… muahahahaha… The story will be centered around Harry, and he is definitely… definitely on the bottom. I'll try to make him a little bit in character though… but the whole anger thing… destroys the bottoming attitude, doesn't it?

Yams41: Yams… That is a cool name… Enjoy! (the story, not the yams, but yams are good too) And tell me how my story compares to yams… hm… yummy…

Brenna8: Nope, nope. After meeting with Draco, I think being Slytherin is at the bottom of Harry's list, don't you? Otherwise, it's _far_ too easy for Draco to simply sneak over and-… you get my drift? (actually… that's kind of cute… in a sad… twisted way…)

Eli: Thank you, I will! And I'll try to keep up the quality while I'm at it. (sticks out tongue)

FlamencoPenguin: Fluffy because when (not if) Draco/Harry falls in love, there won't be anyone really trying to stop them, you know? And plus… they're kids. How evil can Draco as a kid be? He'll just 'be an arse' for a while longer.  
And yeah, I've never really agreed with the fanfics that have Ron and Hermione going against Harry just because… oh… I don't know… he fell in love with Draco or whatever. Their friendship is a lot deeper than that, right?  
And I thought this one was more possible than the Godfather Crisis too. That one was more… epic… and as you will have noted (laughs) I did update godfather crisis before this one.

TeeDee: Cruelty is second nature to writers. That's why we like angst so much, ne? However, this chapter is much more happy, don't you think? Hopefully you've enjoyed it.

Dairygirl: Draco interested in Harry means that he is slowly… very… slowly… falling… in… love… Hehe! Of course! What else?

Wolfawaken: Yay! So with any luck, it'll continue being good to the end!

Anonymous: One more order of fan fiction, coming right up! The chef… I mean muse… just decided to take a several month vacation… that's all. Sorry for the wait.

Ice: Nope, Voldi's alive, but you won't see much of him in this fic. Not planning Cedric's death either. He's one of the good guys, you know? And also, Draco's almost twelve.

Kurtisis Afart: Draco… Draco… he's quite a bit meaner and more child-like and less cool in this chapter, but hopefully you still like him. I know I do. The bad boys are irresistible, aren't they. XD.

Luna Pl: Oooh… Draco's control is slipping… he's not quite the ruler at Hogwarts anymore. As for why he chose to go there, it'll be revealed why a little later. And I think I've been converted. I was never a fan of too much fluff… but now… it's so cute! Thank you!

Mikril-dey


	3. A Hat Away From Doom

**Harry Potter and the School for Pureblood Wizards**

Summary: Before Harry Potter ever had a chance to go to school, Voldemort had taken over. Tauntingly, a cruel joke had been played as Harry received his first letter from Hogwarts. To make things worse, he catches the eye of the 'Prince' amongst pureblood wizards.

Chapter rating: K, I think there's a tiny bit of malexmale attraction if you squint, and there is reference to a malexmale couple, so rated for slightly controversial themes

Pairing: DMxHP with minor SBxRL

Warning: slash, fluff, lemon, power differentials (this story _will_ contain gay relationships, so if you don't understand the implications, please refrain from reading).

Type: AU, romance, drama

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, Raincoast Books and others.

Chapter 3, Part A: A Hat Away from Doom

"What House do you think you'll be in?" Ron asked as they followed Sirius Black across the cold stone floor.

"House?" Harry echoed. "What do you mean?"

"You don't know?" Ron's voice rose. Several annoyed eyes turned in his direction before he flushed and began whispering again. "The four Houses of Hogwarts, you know? We get sorted into four Houses, and we'll be -"

"Ah, Professor McGonagall, or should I call you Minerva now?" They heard Black's voice echo down past the ranks of tittering students. Harry stood on tip toes to see over the crowds.

A tall black witch in emerald-green robes had appeared at the head of their party. Without his glasses, the witch's features were a blurry mound of vague outlines in the dark. For a moment, Harry swore she caught his eyes and quickly ducked. The stern woman didn't look like someone to cross.

"Thank you, Sirius, I'll take them from here," the witch said shortly. Then she paused, and looked up at the man disapprovingly. "I suggest you change out of your Gamekeeper clothes before the ceremony."

"Will do." Black turned back to the first years and bowed. "This will be a first for both of us, students. May the best wizard survive."

"What's he talking about?" Ron wondered. "What first?"

Harry shook his head. In front, Professor McGonagall was ushering them into a small empty chamber off the hall. Harry's teeth tightened. The magic and reality of the situation had never felt so heavy. Unconsciously, he huddled closer to Ron and Hermione, blinking at the Professor nervously as she closed the door behind them.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "Within moments, you will join the older students in the start-of-term banquet. However, you will first be sorted into your houses. This would be a critical moment in your life here because your house will become your family. You will sleep, study and unfortunately, create mischief with the rest of your house."

"We're not _that_ bad," Ron whispered. "She's assuming all of us will be trouble makers."

Harry nodded dumbly, not able to reply. How were they to be sorted? A chill ran down his back and he quickly turned around to see someone staring at him. Harry blinked several times, trying to clear his vision. He thought it was Malfoy, but couldn't say for sure.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin," Professor McGonagall continued. "Each house has its own noble history, and has each produced outstanding witches and wizards. I hope you will work hard to contribute to whichever house you belong to. Your triumphs will earn your house points, while rule-breaking will lose them. At the end of the year, the house cup is awarded to the house with most points. May the best house win."

A hint of anger entered her voice, and Harry swallowed. "Ron, which house is Ma… are the purebloods all in?"

"What?" Ron looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean?"

"I suspect Malfoy will be in Slytherin," Hermione whispered to him, as if reading his mind. "You-Know-Who was from Slytherin too, you know? I'll bet Professor McGonagall looked angry just now because Slytherin's been winning the house cup unfairly. It happens, you know?"

While they were speaking, the witch had left, leaving the first years whispering in the dark. Harry swallowed. "How exactly do they sort us into houses?"

"Some sort of test, I think. Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking." Hermione made a disbelieving sound and Harry's heart skipped a beat.

"A test?" he breathed. He didn't know any magic. He wasn't even sure if he _could_ do magic. And instead of finding out slowly and relatively painlessly, he would be tested in front of everyone, where his failings would be seen by the whole school. Including Draco Malfoy. The thought made him nauseous. He'd never been so nervous. If he were to fail so miserably that they threw him out, where would he go? The brief glimpse at acceptance he had received from Ron and Hermione, the Weasleys and Black the Gamekeeper, had made him feel more alive than he ever remembered being. Now he stood on the brink of losing the best thing that ever happened to him. Harry was aware of the hollow ache inside him.

"Not a test," Hermione said confidently. "That would be unfair to the ones born of normal parents."

Harry only felt dread. "Hermione," he said slowly. "Did you find this a society that's fair to muggleborn?"

For once Hermione had nothing to say. "Still," she muttered. "I don't think that's it. Really…"

"Fascinating." Harry jumped about a foot in the air. Turning around, he found Malfoy's face unsettlingly close. He backed away, one fear replaced by another. Being sorted into the same house as Malfoy was almost as bad as not being sorted at all. Both would probably make him miserable for the next few years of his life.

"So Potter," Malfoy stepped closer to him, pointedly ignored Ron and Hermione. "Which house do you want to be in?"

"What's it to you?" Harry retorted, turning to grab Hermione's and Ron's arms, fully intending to walk away.

"Mere curiosity," Malfoy shrugged. His body guards, the two huge rock-like boys from before lumbered up behind him. Ron gulped.

"Professor McGonagall is going to be back any moment," he said. "You leave Harry and the rest of us alone."

Malfoy just laughed. "What is she going to do? After all. We were just talking, weren't we, Harry?" His gaze shifted to Hermione for a moment and he frowned. "What are you looking at, Mudblood?"

Ron let out an indignant growl, but Harry looked at his other friend. All the while, Hermione's eyes were glittering, as if some puzzle was hidden in Malfoy's face. She straightened and her face grew blank.

"We want to be sorted into Slytherin of course," she said briskly. "I've asked around and it sounds by far the best. You have first pick for classes and more privileges and everything. It's the logical choice."

Ignoring Ron's disbelieving look, she turned to Harry. "Right, Harry?"

She was up to something. Hermione's eyes were too bright, as if she knew a secret that no one else did. Harry hesitated. Slytherin was somewhere Harry definitely did not want to be.

"Yeah… Slytherin, I guess," he said. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Malfoy's grin grow wider.

"I see," the blond boy drawled. "Well, I'll leave your little party alone. Have a nice day."

As Malfoy left, Ron rounded on Hermione. "Slytherin? You're nuts. They're nothing but vicious, sneaky -"

"People like the Draco Malfoy and the Dark Lord," Hermione finished for him. "I know. I wasn't serious, but he wouldn't have left us alone if I hadn't said that. You were going to get in a fight or something. You'll be in trouble before school even starts."

"There's more, isn't there?" Harry asked before Ron could retort.

Hermione seems surprised. "Of course, didn't you notice? What houses do you two want to be in?"

Harry didn't know, but Ron thought for a moment. "All my family's been in Gryffindor," he said finally. "After You-Know-Who took over, Percy complained about being disadvantaged as a Gryffindor and wanted to in Ravenclaw or something, but he's stupid anyway."

"So Gryffindor," Hermione nodded. "Sounds good to me. I heard Dumbledore himself was one. You too, Harry?"

Something in her words bothered Harry, but before he could ask, Professor McGonagall had returned. "Move along now," she said sharply. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start. For a line and follow me."

Even before entering the hall, Harry could hear the dim roar of voices through the main door. The rest of the school must already be seated. Thinking of the millions of eyes that would be looking upon his failure in the room made his legs tremble. Harry followed behind Ron and Hermione, who were looking equally nervous. His anxiety only worsened when he realized Malfoy had fallen into step behind him.

They entered the Great Hall through a pair of towering double doors and the students stopped in their tracts. Professor McGonagall didn't stop walking until the students were standing in front of the teachers, facing the vast assembly of students gazing up at them.

Harry tried to squint, but couldn't recognize any faces among the sea of blurriness. He was almost glad he had lost his glasses at the moment; he didn't want to see all the staring eyes.

Professor McGonagall silently placed a stool in front of the first years. There was something on top of it but Harry's vision was too blurry for him to make out what it was.

"A hat," Hermione whispered, seeing his squint. "There's a wizard's hat on the stool."

"If you can call that a hat," Ron said dubiously. "It's in tatters."

Maybe they were expected to pull a rabbit from it. That sounded like a wizardly thing to do. Harry had no idea how he would go about doing that, and he could hear his breathing growing panicked.

The lump on the stool twitched, and to Harry's astonishment, began to sing.

_"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
__But don't judge on what you see,  
__I'll eat myself if you can find  
__A smarter…"_

Something cold crept down Harry's back; something that was distinctly _not_ his nervous mind playing tricks on him. Harry gasped, jerking around to glance over his shoulders. He caught a glimpse of a small orange and black head before it vanished again down his robes.

_Snake…_ Harry had no doubt who was to blame for his present predicament. As the creature resurfaced, he realized to his horror that, the snake did not have just one head, but three. Three pairs of eyes leered at him before one slowly slithered across his shoulder and around his throat.

"Malfoy-" Harry choked, turning to the blond boy beside him, who was trying hard to hold back laughter.

"You set your pet on me," Malfoy hissed, obviously enjoying himself. "It's only fair that I do the same."

Beside him, Ron had noticed something was wrong, but when he turned to Harry, the three headed snake vanished beneath his robes again.

"What's wrong?" He asked, eyes darting from Harry's overly pale face to Malfoy's grin.

"Mind your own business, Weasley," Malfoy said.

Harry couldn't stand it anymore. Frantically, he reached a hand behind him and into his robes, heart thudding wildly. The snake hissed in annoyance and Harry's fingers paused.

"Careful," Malfoy whispered. "He bites."

"Bites?" Ron echoed, voice louder. Fortunately, the other students were too engrossed in the hat's song to notice. "What bites?"

"_Harry, the left head,"_ a wispy voice rang in Harry's ear. He frowned as he neither Ron nor Malfoy reacted. _"Only you can hear me, Harry, grab the left head."_ The voice sounded suspiciously like Black's, and Harry swerved around to see the gamekeeper in the High Table behind him. One leg was propped on the table and Black winked at Harry before returning his gaze to the sorting hat.

_The left head?_ Harry thought. How was he supposed to know which was the left head? Swallowing, he closed his fingers around a slender snake throat and hoped. When no biting came, he slowly drew the creature out of his robes.

He could've sworn the head he was holding talked as he dragged the snake past his ear.

"Hey, help, you two! Are you going to just let me be man-handled like this?" The left head snarled.

The other two heads stayed silent, and Harry could practically feel amusement flowing from them. Ron's eyes were wide as saucers as the snake coiled around Harry's arm and the lone left head tried to dislodge itself.

He thrust the snake back at Malfoy, almost hissing himself. "Keep your pets to yourself, Malfoy."

"_…I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

As if on cue, the hat finished its song and the whole hall burst into applause. The hat did a small bobbing motion before becoming still again.

"We missed the song," Ron said, disappointed. He pulled Harry to stand further away from Malfoy as they both glared at him angrily.

"How did you-" Malfoy himself looked surprised. With a huff, he stroked the three headed snake before letting it slip up his sleeve, where it gingerly wrapped itself around Malfoy's arm before the robe sleeves covered it.

Making an effort to ignore his tormentor, Harry turned to Hermione, who had been too focused on the hat's song to notice their skirmish. She now looked at them oddly.

"Sorry, what happened?" Harry asked, glad his voice was steady.

Hermione seemed about to ask the same thing before she changed her mind. "The hat, the Sorting Hat, introduced the four houses again, and it'll sort us when we put it on."

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Ron whispered in relief. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Harry smiled weakly. That sounded a lot better than any magic test. After the brief struggle with Malfoy's snake, he didn't feel up to any more brave or clever deeds for the night.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. She cleared her voice and stared disapprovingly at Black's propped up feet before she began. "When I call you names, you will come up to the stool and put the hat on. Abbott, Hannah!"

And the Sorting began. Harry's heart grew heavier as student after student was sorted into Slytherin, and the largest table at the back grew larger still. He noticed that the Hat began segregating the Slytherin House. "Upper Slytherin!" It would shout for some students, while for others "Lower Slytherin!"

The applause from the large green-decked table at the back was always louder for 'Upper Slytherins.'

When Hermione's name was called, she patted Harry's shoulder and smiled reassuringly before running to the stool and jamming the hat on with the eagerness of a child at a candy store. There was a brief pause before the hat shouted "GRYFFINDOR!"

Ron grinned as Hermione joined the smallest table on their right, face beaming with triumph. "Well that's one of us," he whispered. "Look at Malfoy, he can't believe Hermione lied to him."

Indeed Malfoy was frowning. Harry could practically hear the gears turning in the other boy's head as his expression grew thoughtful.

Then it was Malfoy's turn. The Great Hall grew silent as his name was called. Harry heard whispers from around them.

"The Dark Lord's heir…"

"Slytherin, definitely Slytherin."

"He _looks_ like a prince, you know?"

"I dare you to insult him."

"No way."

Malfoy swaggered forward. Not even bothering to sit on the stool, he yanked the hat up and got his wish at once. Harry could've sworn the hat had not touched his head before it screamed "UPPER SLYTHERIN!"

The back table erupted in loud whooping cheers. The Slytherins stamped the ground, whistling and shouting. The thundering applause seemed to parade Malfoy towards his house mates, where the head of table opened up and a large plate was passed to the space in front of him. Malfoy settled back, looking used to the treatment.

There weren't many people left now. A couple more people were sorted into Slytherin and Ravenclaw. At last, Harry's heart stopped as Professor McGonagall called out his name. "Potter, Harry!"

Whispers suddenly broke out of the crowds like the rustling of leaves.

"_Potter_, did she say?"

"_The_ Harry Potter?"

"I read about him! He defeated the Dark Lord the first time!"

"Quiet, you! Don't let the Slytherins hear you say that!"

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the students peering at him, as if unsure of how he should be viewed. He was relieved to note that most of them were not malicious, merely curious.

It was dark inside the hat, and Harry waited nervously for it to pass judgment.

"Hm…" the small voice said in his ear. "You're a difficult one, aren't you? Plenty of courage, I see. Clever and talented, and oh my, what's this? You've a nice thirst to prove yourself. Very interesting. Where should I put you?"

Gripping the edges of the stool, Harry thought frantically. "Not Slytherin, please not Slytherin."

"Not Slytherin?" the voice echoed. "Oh but I've had a request from one of the earlier students to put a certain Harry Potter in Slytherin. Are you quite sure? I think you'd do quite well in Slytherin. No? Well then, GRYFFINDOR!"

The last word was shouted out loud, and he was shaking as he took off the hat and walked towards his table. He had been so close, just a hat away from Malfoy and utter doom.

He was so relieved that he hardly noticed the cheers he was getting. It started quiet at first, as if nobody could decide whether to cheer or not, but then the Weasley twins began drumming the table and shouting "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

And soon, his cheers were as loud as Draco Malfoy's. Malfoy was scowling, eyes glittering dangerously, but Harry saw none of it.

Closer to the Gryffindor table, Harry finally recognized familiar faces from the train. He sank into the chair next to Hermione and wordlessly handed the twins the white box with Lee Jordan's taranchula in it. Across from him, a sandy haired boy reached a hand forward and shook his.

"Seamus Finnigan, Harry," he said. "Don't worry about the Slytherins. I think it's really brave of you to come to this school."

Harry grinned sheepishly and explained that he didn't know anything before hand. Seamus' eyes grew wide.

"That's awfully cruel of them." another Gryffindor said.

Soon, Ron joined them after his own sorting and the last student, Blaise Zabini became Slytherin as well. Harry recognized him as the boy from the train that always sat at Malfoy's right.

Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away. Harry suddenly realized how hungry he was. He hadn't eaten since sharing pumpkin pastries with the Weasleys and Hermione on the train.

At the High Table, a blurry figure stood. Harry saw vast amounts of glowing white beard and realized with a thrill that this must be Dumbledore, the kindly man from his card. The old man's arms opened wide and he began to speak.

"Welcome!" He said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts!" Harry could hear a happy ring in his old voice. "Before we all dig into the food, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

And when the food began appearing on the dishes, Harry promptly forgot anything else that existed in the world except his hunger, the delicious food, and the perfection of his life at that moment.

* * *

Chapter 3, Part B: Harry the Mailman

After stuffing himself, Harry felt an easy drowsiness come over him. He leaned back in his chair, basking in the incredible warmth of the hall and the people around him. Ron and Hermione were arguing about whether classes ought to be hard or not. Fred and George, on Harry's other side, were talking in low voices and snickering.

Suddenly, Harry remembered.

"Fred," he sat up and squinted towards the High Table. "Which one is Professor Lupin?"

The twins paused for a moment, Ron and Hermione leaned in too.

"Ah," Fred said. "Sweet old Professor Lupin, our favorite teacher, you know?"

"That one right there, the short one." George pointed. Harry squinted in the direction of the finger, and saw a blurry form sitting between two taller robed figures.

"The blond one?" Harry asked.

"Actually, it's more light brown than blond," Fred said. Or at least, Harry thought it was Fred.

"Wrong, so very wrong. It's more blond than brown," George punched his twin on the shoulder.

"Are you quite sure?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"But that's a-" Ron was equally confused.

"Yup," George said. "That's Lupin."

"Oh," Ron said blankly, then after a few seconds, he brightened. "Oh!"

Harry had no idea what was going on, but he was reluctant to state his ignorance. For once Hermione didn't catch on to his confusion. She was looking quizzically at the High Table.

"Really?"

"Yes Hermione," Fred let out a long suffered sigh. "Really. I swear on my honor." He placed a hand on his chest and raised the other one palm outwards.

"Besides," George added. "Do you see anyone else more suitable?"

"I guess not, I can't see Professor Black with anyone else." Hermione scanned the High Table thoroughly before turning to Percy across the table. "Who teaches Transfigurations?"

When Fred and George had heard of Black's request to him, they had snatched the letter with the intensity of hungry wolves. Harry watched worriedly as they tore open the folds and scanned the simple lines printed.

"This won't do," Fred said after reading it, disappointed. "This proves nothing. Just when I thought they'd finally messed up!"

"We've been trying to find proof that Lupin and Black are together for years," George explained. "They _are_ together, everyone knows it, but nobody's ever seen anything, or gotten their hands on anything concrete. They're too sneaky."

As students around them finished their meals, the food began to vanish. Professor Dumbledore stood once more and addressed the crowd.

"Now that we're all satiated and too lazy to complain, I'm going to give you the good and bad news this year. Good news first. I am happy to inform you that the School governors have finally agreed to let us resume teaching a much missed class. In addition to the Dark Arts taught by Professor Snape, we will once again be teaching Defense against the Dark Arts."

Professor Dumbledore tilted his head at the titters of his students. "Who is it taught by? Why, none other than our beloved gamekeeper, now Professor Sirius Black."

The applause was thunderous. It seemed that every table was cheering as Black climbed on the table and executed an elegant bow. The man magnified his own voice before speaking.

"Thank you," he boomed. "I would just like to say a few words." A pause. "Yes Minerva, I'm perfectly aware that I'm not supposed to make a speech. I will anyways.

"As Professor Dumbledore had said, Hogwarts now teaches both Dark Arts and Defense against the Dark Arts," Black said. "As some might've suspected, there is a bit of rivalry between Snape and I. I solemnly vow that this will be the year I finally prove my superiority."

"Snape's fuming," George commented happily. "Look at him, he's dying of anger."

"So as Ialways say," Black's sharp gaze swept over the crowds. "May the best wizard win!"

Harry's ears were buzzing with cheers when the banquet dispersed. Fred and George had reluctantly handed the letter back to him and pointed him in the direction of Lupin's office. It was on the second floor, they said, quite close to the Gryffindor dorms. They had followed Percy and the other first years until the second floor, though it seemed they had climbed a dozen flights of stairs.

Then, with all the subtlety of sneaking from the cupboard for food, Harry slipped away from the other first years. Ron and Hermione had wanted to tag along, but Percy had been reluctant to drop his conversation with Hermione on Transfigurations. Ron was caught sneaking after Harry and Percy sternly ordered him back.

"By the mountain painting," Harry blinked. He was walking very close to the wall, determined not to miss the office despite his blurry eyesight. Finally, he found himself facing a door beside a large bronze framed painting of the mountain next to Hogwarts.

Steeling his nerve, Harry knocked. "Professor Lupin?"

The door slipped open silently and a robed figure appeared behind it. Harry blinked. From afar Professor Lupin's slim build and longish hair could've been a girl's, but up close, he was definitely a man.

"Yes Harry?" The voice was mild, and Harry's mind blanked. What in the world was going on? The shock was so great that he didn't wonder how the man knew his name.

"Erm… sorry, maybe I have the wrong room. I'm looking for a Professor Lupin." Harry flushed. The man must be offended, even without his glasses, Harry should've seen that he wasn't a woman.

"Unfortunately, I am the only Professor Lupin at Hogwarts," the man smiled. He looked young, with a slender face framed by silky locks of light brown hair. There was a brightness in his eyes that Harry liked immediately. "Is something the matter?"

"Mr… I mean, Professor Black asked me to deliver this," Harry dug the letter from his robe pocket. "I'm sorry, I just thought that you were… that you were…" His face flushed. "A woman. Not that you look like one, it's just that…"

"I see," Professor Lupin said, raising an eyebrow. "I won't say that's something I hear every day, but if you've been talking to _Professor_ Black, I can see where the confusion may have come from. He's never been particularly exact in his speech."

Wordlessly, Harry handed the letter over. The paper was crinkled from his pocket and Harry felt the twinge of embarrassment die down as Professor Lupin smiled again.

"It was a surprise that he's going to teach, he never told me anything beforehand," the man commented idly. "I hope things work out for him. He's not the teaching type."

Professor Lupin folded the letter and turned to Harry again. "I'd better meet up with him before he gets annoyed. Was there anything else, Harry?"

"Actually," Harry said hastily. "I was going to ask, are you… are you and Professor Black…"

Lupin laughed. "No, Harry, it's not that easy. With so much bets and money riding on this, it would hardly be fair. Besides, I don't approve of gambling, I'm not going to say anything."

"Oh," Harry said. "Um… can you thank Professor Black for me? He helped me twice tonight, and I didn't get a chance to thank him."

"Of course," Professor Lupin shrugged on a thick outer robe before stepping out into the hallway and sliding the door shut behind him. "But it's always good to thank someone personally."

"I will." Harry promised. "I'll see him in class, right? I'll tell him then."

The man nodded, turning to stare at the painting outside his room for a moment, then smiled. "Do you need directions to your dorm, Harry? It seems you lost your year mates."

Harry shook his head. "No thank you, I should be able to find it. It's just behind the portrait, down the hall, right?"

"Then I'll see you in class tomorrow, Harry."

Feeling warm and sleepy with satisfaction, Harry made his way down the hall after Lupin left. The portraits were quietly talking inside their frames, and the hallway was quiet and cozy. Harry smiled at how idiotically happy he was. He had been at the castle for a couple hours, and already it felt more like home than the Dursley's ever felt.

"What happened to Slytherin being the logical choice?" A cold voice asked from behind him. "Do you think I'm an idiot?"

Harry swerved around and saw the blurry form of Malfoy silently approaching him. His body guards were nowhere in sight. Heart beating faster, Harry despaired at how close he was to his own dormitory. If he could just slip past the portrait and he'd be with his friends again.

"The hat put me in Gryffindor," Harry's fists clenched. "Look, I've never offended you and I don't understand why you hate me so much. Isn't it better to go back to your own dorm and be waited on? I've got my own dorm to return to."

Malfoy's gaze was icier than it had ever been before. "You'll regret being put in Gryffindor, Harry Potter. Mark my words, you will. Today was just a start. It'll get worse. You'll be begging me to stop before this year's over."

All the good feelings had vanished. Harry glared at the boy before him. Bad enough he'd been invited to the school as a cruel joke, he'd earned the hate of the next Lord of the Wizarding World for absolutely no reason at all.

"I'm going to sleep," he said as calmly as he could manage. He was aware of Malfoy's eyes on him as he approached the Fat Lady's portrait that led to the Gryffindor dorms.

"Password?" she said quietly. "Don't worry about the Slytherin, dear. Unfortunately, he's allowed to know the passwords to all the rooms in the school. It won't make a difference if he hears."

"Caput Draconis," Harry said, tasting the words. "Caput Draconis."

_

* * *

Draco watched as the boy vanished behind the portrait. He was more furious than he'd ever remembered being. That insolent little half-blood! He could care less if his mudblood friends went to Gryffindor, but Potter!_

_He just had to calm down. It didn't matter if Potter went into Gryffindor. He was still the Dark Lord's heir. He was still in charge. He'd get Potter sooner or later._

_He slept that night dreaming of angry green eyes and the moment when they first bumped into each other on Platform Nine and three quarters._

* * *

"_Moony, stop laughing! What in the world is so funny?"_

"_One question Sirius, why did Harry think I was a girl?"_

"… _I didn't put him up to it, if that's what you mean."_

"_Really."_

"_What? Don't you trust me?"_

"…"

"_Don't answer that."_

* * *

Author's Note:

Three months. I didn't think that was too, too long a wait compared to the first time. I'm having some trouble finding the balance between Draco being a jerk and Draco showing interest in someone. This chapter made their relationship a lot worse than simple 'boy picking on crush,' and I'm actually not quite sure how that happened.

Most of part one was lifted straight from the books, with minor alteration and additions, which makes me feel really cheap… -.-' but it can't be helped. I hope I succeeded, just by the overlapping scenes, to make this part at least believable and as close to canon as AU can be.

I'm sorry if there was very little fluffiness and Draco/Harry interaction in this chapter. The next one should be better and Draco will return to being the non-seriously-pissed version of himself.

The three headed snake is a Runespoor. It said that it was a favorite pet of Dark Wizards, so why not? That one's obviously still juvenile, cuz they grow to be 5 to 6 feet long or something.

A cookie to anyone that guesses what Remus teaches! Muahahaha!

A lot of reviews asked about the length of the fic… and truthfully, this story didn't start with much planning behind it, so I have absolutely no idea how long it's going to last. I suppose I'll try to figure it out as I write.

I'm actually having a lot of trouble over Godfather Crisis… and though I planned to update that story before this one, it didn't work out. ; Hopefully the new chapter of that would be out soon too.

Short author's note because it's late.

ChiKoiDoji: Well… Harry's not in Slytherin. I would feel too sorry for him if he had to live with Draco. You'll see, it'll be bad enough that they live on the same continent together, as far as Harry's concerned. And yes, I plan to follow a lot of the events in the books, with Quidditch and whatnot. It's just going to be the ultra-condensed form. Oh and the most important thing, yes, this is HD, and hopefully it'll be believable and somewhat in character. -.-'

Imperfection Is A Bliss: Ah, if only we all had your optimism. Thank you for reviewing! Hopefully, it'll keep on being interesting.

Wolfstar: I shall update this march 13, and godfather crisis will come in three years. No! I'm kidding, I don't know when I'll be done the next chapter, but hopefully it'll be soon.

Gary-stu: Your name reminds me of gravy stew… yum… but don't mind me, I relate everything to food. See? "Butt-muncher" … erm… that's disturbing. Anyways, I'm not sure about in character… I tried, but since it's AU, I couldn't be sure. Thank you!

DrOwNiNg In EbOnY: Sorry, no Draco/Harry glomping for a _long_ time. As you can see things aren't going well between them. And you might have to wait forever for Remmy/Siri. Like the twins said, they're sneaky.

Elize: Sorry for making you wait so long! Thank you so much!

Acr: Heh… dear old Voldie, for someone who won everything, he's going to be relatively unimportant in the story. Here's more for you to read.

Duchessa: Draco's not so sweet or so sensual in this chapter. I think rejection went to his head, even in Harry being sorted into Gryffindor wasn't exactly an outright rejection. Poor sensitive fool. And Sirius _is_ Harry's godfather. Remus/Sirius will explain it all next chapter and stuff. Dumbledore is still Headmaster, but it'll be a while before it's explained what deal he struck with Voldemort.

Erm… I am guilty of loving many crying blubbering Harry fics. He's not going to be doing that in this one, but hey, after this fic, I found that I am a romanticist at heart. Yay!

FlamencoPenguin: Aw, I don't like tarantulas either, but if Ron's even more scared of them than I am, they must be included. Heh… I don't know if I'm going to do all seven years; I might stop after the relationship works out. Some things from the book are just not doable… The department of mysteries is a BIG no-no. I'm not touching that part of the books with a hundred foot pole. … It wasn't _that_ long, was it?

Srreadsalot: Thank you! I hope this chapter's shiny enough to light up a bad day (though I doubt it, it was too… evil-dracoish)

Gertrude Abbernathy: Well, my thought was that since philosopher's stone is a key to immortality, Voldemort might want it whether he's in power or not. Anyways, I'm actually not sure how long it's going to be. After the first month or so at Hogwarts, things are going to start moving really fast, cuz I'm can't come up with seven years of interesting events like JKRowling had. (Sighs and feels extremely inferior). I hope to keep the distance from the original story about the same though, so cross your fingers!

Triola: I have come to the conclusion that we are all very sadistic. ; Harry being picked on and suffering is a major source of amusement. Hm… should I really make Draco pass that law?

Vanakuvixen: Merry belated Christmas! Thank you for reviewing! Hohohohohoho! Enjoy! (Oh, and happy belated new years too!) Three cheers for holiday spirits!

Kurri-chan: Thank you so much!

Enchantress of the Dark: Hm… I guess… but I'd never been much good at writing fiery girls. laughs, so I hope I'm up to the challenge. Is that Draco's birthday? I never got around to researching it, but anyways, it'll be amusing when Draco tries to order teachers around. Buahahaha. Which article was that? The pureblood and grandparents one? I couldn't find it, but it sounds interesting! Thanx!

Nicki L: Here's the third chapter, but… evidently it didn't come very soon. Sorry. Thank you for reviewing!

Dairygirl: ; Draco doesn't seem to realize he's not the ultimate authority at Hogwarts. It'll come as a rude shock, his 11-year old brain won't be able to comprehend it at first. I actually think the possibility of Harry being happy in this environment is very likely. I support war for the right causes, but I'd have to say life is always worst during war times, which is why Harry has it so hard in the books. Cheers!

TeeDee: The first day of school will be like a war for Harry. Draco will come in with full ammunition, so to speak. Don't worry, it's all in good fun (Draco's fun at least), and I won't let it get too out of hand. Thank you!

Mikril-dey


	4. The Potions Master

**Harry Potter and the School for Pureblood Wizards**

Summary: Before Harry Potter ever had a chance to go to school, Voldemort had taken over. Tauntingly, a cruel joke had been played as Harry received his first letter from Hogwarts. To make things worse, he catches the eye of the 'Prince' amongst pureblood wizards.

Chapter rating: T; I think there's a tiny bit of malexmale attraction if you squint, and there is reference to a malexmale couple, so rated for slightly controversial themes. Also, there is erotic dancing implied.

Pairing: DMxHP with minor SBxRL

Warning: slash, fluff, lemon, power differentials (this story _will_ contain gay relationships, so if you don't understand the implications, please refrain from reading). Slightly happier, OOC Lupin. Black might seem OOC at first, but that will be explained.

Type: AU, romance, drama

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, Raincoast Books and others.

Chapter 4, Part A: The Potions Master

"I am not," Professor Lupin told them the first day of class, "a Potions Master. Your former professor is one of the leading experts in the field, but Potions is not my specialty."

The class tittered at this outright proclamation. Hermione looked as if she had swallowed a rock. Harry, to her right, nudged her in concern. "He can't be _that_ bad, Hermione."

"Actually," Ron whispered. "If Fred and George love him so much, there must be something really wrong with him. He'll be fun though."

Harry had been looking forward to classes, Potions especially. Except, by some cruel twist of fate, they shared the class with the Upper Slytherins. Now, he was uncomfortably aware of Draco Malfoy's gaze tingling around his neck. He had cringed when Malfoy and his lackeys first sank into the seats behind them, shooing aside two blushing Gryffindor girls.

"Lupin's a pushover," Malfoy whispered loudly. "He's hardly bigger than a fourth year. How much do you bet I can make him squirm and go crying to Black afterwards?"

Harry clenched his hands at the spiteful snickers that followed. Hermione forgot her displeasure, swallowing as she glanced from Malfoy's sneer to their professor. Ron scratched his neck. "They better not start anything," he leaned towards Harry. "The stupid buggers."

Lupin waited, smiling, until the chatter died down and began. "It is my long standing belief that there is one single universal skill one must learn from Potions; how to safely run away from explosions. Therefore, today, I want you all to blow up your cauldrons."

For a moment the students simply stared, unable to comprehend Lupin's words. It wasn't until the professor wrote in large neat print on the board,

_Exploding Cauldrons - How to cause and how to prevent_

that they came to their senses.

"Is he serious?" Hermione breathed. She tried to steel her expression, but Harry could see the tiny tug at the corner of her mouth.

"Blowing up cauldrons?" Malfoy echoed. "He wants us to blow up our cauldrons?"

"Not only that, Mr. Malfoy," Lupin continued, ignoring the tightening of Malfoy's brows. "Your goal is to create your explosion and walk out of this room without a trace of stains on your robe. I'll be showing you how to safely handle potion mishaps."

"On the side board are the basic ingredients," he gestured. "These will be found in most of the potions we work with this year. You may ask for other materials, but clear it up with me first. Remember, the messier, louder, and more odorous your explosion is, the better.

"Who here knows why explosions occur?" Lupin asked. Hermione's hand shot up into the air, her eyes gleaming. Apparently, it wasn't a very hard question, because half a dozen other students also had their hands raised.

Lupin picked Hermione. "When two ingredients are incompatible, they will react negatively and cause an explosion," she said confidently.

"Good," Lupin smiled at her. "Let's talk about which of the ingredients I have on the board will cause an explosion. Hopefully you'll learn to avoid them in the future."

They spent the next ten minutes quickly introducing the ingredients, with students madly scribbling down reactions that seemed likely. Harry was pretty sure Hermione copied down everything, judging by the speed her quill sped across her parchment. Malfoy, on the other hand, made no move to write, and Harry glanced back at him once or twice in annoyance.

All too soon, Professor Lupin's bright eyes passed over his students, and he flashed a peaceful smile they were quickly becoming familiar with. "I'll be looking forward to them. Please do your planning first."

With that, he released the students from their stunned silence with a wave, and Harry felt the room explode with sound.

"This is going to be great!" Ron said excitedly. "I can't believe a professor's letting us do this! Harry, Harry what are you going to make?"

"I'm not sure," Harry heaved a deep breath, eyes scanning his chicken scratched notes. "I wasn't expecting something like this."

"The section you want is on page six hundred and two of your text, Harry," Lupin's voice startled them. He had passed by their table, leaned over their shoulder and began leafing through their textbook. The chapter he turned to was titled; Accidents and Mishaps in Potions. Harry turned to thank the man, but Lupin held a finger to his lips. Discreetly, the professor set something on the table beside the book and said, "the Giant Squid was feeling generous."

Harry stared; they were his glasses. The thick frames were mended, and the smudge on the left lens Harry had never been able to clean was gone. When he looked up to thank the man, Lupin had left.

"Harry, your glasses!" Hermione said as Harry put them on, grinning. "I can't believe he got it back for you! I know what explosion I'm going to do. Just wait for it!"

Splash! Harry's breath caught in his throat as something cool and slimy seeped through his robes and down his neck collar. Slowly, he breathed out as the skin where the liquid touched began to itch. It slipped down his arm and Harry could see through the corners of his eyes that some were caught in his hair.

"Malfoy," he gritted his teeth. The other boy was laughing, legs swung on top of the table and his ladle dangling from one hand.

"See? Perfect aim," Malfoy bragged. He dipped his ladle into his cauldron, where a moldy yellow broth was churning. How it seemed to bubble and sizzle with heat, yet feel so cold against Harry's face, he didn't know. All he knew was that for a moment, all he could see was Malfoy's cruel smirk and the sickly yellow liquid.

"Draco," Zabini piped up. "Let me have a try."

"Sure," Malfoy pointed to a shy, clumsy looking Gryffindor boy (Neville, if Harry remember correctly) in the corner. "Try getting him. His face gets on my nerves." Zabini seemed disappointed for a moment, but obediently picked up his ladle to throw potion at his designated target.

"Do you know what this is, Potter?" Malfoy drawled, leaving his seat and making his way around the tables towards them. "This yellow concoction? Do you know what it does?"

Harry frowned. Ron and Hermione shifted uncomfortably beside him, but didn't back down.

"I can't believe you're doing this in class, Malfoy," Hermione hissed. "That is low!"

Ron nodded furiously, hands balled into fists around his robes. Unlike Harry and Hermione, Ron knew what Malfoy was capable of. The pale boy could destroy them with a single command. But if he didn't stand with Harry, Ron would never be able to forgive himself for cowering before a sniveling little git.

"Shut up, mudblood!" Malfoy snarled. "You have no idea what you're talking about!"

The itch had gotten unbearable. Harry was grounding his teeth together and bunching his shoulders tightly against his neck, but the itch was penetrating his skin, and it seemed as if every nerve in his body was tingling.

"Fernicules' Frenzied Itches," Hermione growled. For a moment, Malfoy looked taken aback, but quickly schooled his features. "That's what you made. Don't think I can't see that."

In the far corner, Neville burst into tears and began scratching himself hysterically. The boys sitting beside him attempted to help, but Neville would not be consoled.

"Malfoy," Harry said harshly, forcibly holding back the urge to scratch. His head was swimming from dizziness. "If that was your explosion, it was pretty pathetic."

A nerve in Malfoy's jaw twitched. "I don't care about Lupin and his stupid assignments," he said tightly. He raised his ladle, with a quivering mass of Fernicles' Frenzied Itches loaded on it. "Look! That's what I think of him!"

The yellow potion sailed through the air, as if in slow motion. Harry watched as Professor Lupin turned around with a raised eyebrow, hand reaching into his sleeves. Their fight had caught the attention of the entire class, and several dozen eyes stared unblinkingly at the Potions Professor.

"Wadiwasi!" Lupin said calmly, drawing our his wand. His smile was no longer as laid back as before.

The flying menace stopped inches from him and hurdled back towards Malfoy, twice as fast as it was before. Malfoy's eyes widened, but he couldn't move as his own potion charged at his face. He opened his mouth to cry out, but already, he could smell the stench the liquid gave off as it flew.

"Draco watch out!" Crabbe's huge form bowled into him from behind. Malfoy sprawled forward against Harry, knocking him back into Ron and Hermione.

"Ow," Harry groaned. He blinked and was uncomfortably aware that Malfoy's face was less than an inch from his own. For a moment, they stared at each other, Harry's breath coming in short, hard gasps. Then he came to his senses. "Get off, Malfoy!"

Immediately, Malfoy scrabbled to his feet, dusting his robes and looking away. Only then did Harry notice the rest of his surroundings. Ron's knee was digging painfully into his back, Hermione was flushed and squashed with the red haired boy's elbow across her stomach. "You too Ron, get off," she mumbled.

And Crabbe's face was covered with the sticky yellow potion.

"By Merlin," Lupin walked up to them, for once seeming genuinely surprised. "Wonderful reflexes, Mr. Crabbe. Five points to Slytherin for that wonderfully self-sacrificing act of heroism. I am pleasantly surprised. Take yourself to the Infirmary, some of it might've gotten to your eyes."

"And you, Mr. Malfoy," Lupin turned as Crabbe ambled towards the door. "Will be joining me for detention tonight. I see I'll have to teach you how to dodge flying potions without your friends."

For a moment, Malfoy seemed still dazed by the incident. Briefly, he shook his head and glared at Lupin. "Detention?" He growled. "You've got to be kidding me! You're giving _me_ detention? Who do you think you are?!"

There were stifled screams from the doorway. Harry turned to see that a new creature had entered the classroom. It was a huge black dog, easily coming up to Harry's chest. Bushy, thick fur whispered as it stepped up behind Lupin and glared at Malfoy through fierce, cold eyes.

Harry heard Malfoy gulp.

"Would you prefer your detention next week when you've got homework in all your classes and Quidditch sign-ups?" Lupin asked mildly. "I think I'm being pretty reasonable about time." His expression softened. "And I swear by Merlin's beard that your father and Lord Voldemort won't hear of this."

Malfoy's expression grew blank, and it was a moment before he could respond. "This is stupid," he said, and leaped over the table towards his own seat.

Lupin shrugged and glanced at the rest of the class. All gazes had turned on the dog, now sitting and scratching itself lazily in the middle aisle. As if noticing the attention, it stood and stretched, showing off it's frightening size.

"Class, I'd like to introduce someone," Lupin sighed. "This is Snuffles. I wouldn't call him my dog, exactly, as he usually does whatever he pleases. I'm not quite sure why he's here right now," he glared at the dog, who only let his tongue roll out of his mouth and panted. "But now that he's here. Let's have him demonstrate how to dodge exploding cauldrons, shall we?"

The dog looked up in alarm, then relaxed. He barked and waved his tail wildly.

"Well class, I'll give you another half hour to make your potions," Lupin announced. "For those of you who are done, you might want to practice the spell I used before to deflect flying debris. Flick your wrists and say clearly, 'Wadiwasi.'"

Of course, Seamus and Dean in the corner immediately began flinging potions at each other.

Resigned and still itching, Harry was about to sit back in his chair when Professor Lupin beckoned him to the front. "Harry and Neville, come with me and lets see if we can get rid of that itch, shall we?"

Harry stood again, breathing a sigh of relief. He felt the dog, Snuffles, brush past him on his way to the front of the room. Lupin waited for them at the board, a small vial of clear purple liquid in his hand. He gave both boys a drop and told them to press it against the abused skin.

Gingerly, Harry pressed his palm into his neck and was rewarded with a soothing sensation sliding down his spine, promptly extinguishing the itch. Neville slowly stopped sniffling and thanked Lupin before running back to his seat.

"Thank you," Harry whispered. "For the glasses too. I mean, you fixed them and everything."

"I am sorry about Mr. Malfoy, Harry," Lupin commented idly. "The Wizarding World is not in a good state right now. I'm sorry if you were mistreated on the train. I usually take the Hogwarts Express to prevent these things, but they started school late this year and I had been… ill."

"That's alright," Harry said uncomfortably. "It doesn't just happen to me, and plus, I'm used to it."

"But it _will_ be harder on you than most other muggleborn students," Lupin said. He stared intensely at Harry's face for a moment. "But I believe in you. You'll be able to endure whatever they throw at you, and leave Hogwarts a great wizard, just like your father."

"You knew my father, sir?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Lupin's eyes grew distant. "In fact, you may even say that Professor Black and I were…"

"Were what?" Harry asked eagerly, but Lupin shook his head.

"I think I've said too much already, Harry. You won't have enough time to complete your explosion."

Reluctantly, Harry returned to his seat, mind churning over what Professor Lupin was about to say. What was the connection between his father and the two professors?

"What was that about, Harry?" Ron asked when he sat down. "What were you and Lupin talking about? Is he going to punish Malfoy?" Harry shrugged and slowly began stirring his cauldron.

"I think Professor Lupin knew my father," Harry said. "He was going to say something about it but he stopped."

"Maybe he's not allowed to talk," Hermione gave her cauldron one last stir and set her ladle aside. "The Dark Lord being in charge and all. There're probably spies among the students too."

"I'll bet Malfoy's one," Ron said darkly. "Why else would he come to Hogwarts? You'd think he would go to a school completely under his control."

"Shh!" Hermione hissed, glaring at the group behind them. "If they hear you, it's Harry they're going to pick on." Harry heard Malfoy laugh behind them and sighed. Carefully, he sliced his clover bulbs as small as he could, squinting behind his glasses.

He was finished seconds before Lupin called the class to a halt.

"I hope that was sufficient time for all of you," Lupin said. "Now, I want you all to bring your cauldrons to the front. When I say go, you will add in your final ingredient and dodge aside. Points will be awarded for your explosion and how well you can keep yourself safe. Lets see… do we have volunteers?"

Nearly the whole class raised their hands. Harry glanced behind him, saw that Malfoy was still wearing a sour expression, and raised his hand just to spite the other boy. Lupin glanced around the room before his eyes landed on Neville's half raised hand.

"How about you, Mr. Longbottom?" Lupin beckoned. Trembling, Neville made his way to the front of the class, a sickly blue cauldron bubbling in his hands. At Lupin's nod, Neville dropped in a piece of what looked to Harry like a black slug.

For a moment nothing happened. Neville sighed in relief before Snuffles abruptly knocked him out of the way and his cauldron exploded.

Grey smoke coughed up and hints of the blue paste spewed in all directions. The dog executed an impossible flip midair and landed smoothly beside Professor Lupin, shaggy coat spotless and wavering.

"Excellent," Lupin clapped. "Next."

Ron's let out a funny popping sound that made Lupin laugh, but otherwise did nothing. Seamus and Dean had combined their cauldron, which overflowed in a disgusting green slime, sending the first row students scooting back.

After Hermione's explosion, the volunteers died down. She had swaggered to the front added her last ingredient, and stood to one side as her cauldron began ringing loudly. A total of seventeen explosions shot off like an assortment of fireworks. Even Lupin's eyebrows raised and he gave her a look of contemplation before he congratulated her.

For a moment, no one raised their hands. Finally, Malfoy stood, pale eyes angry, and brought his own cauldron to the front.

"Mr. Malfoy," Lupin took one look at the black substance in Malfoy's cauldron and his eyes grew serious. "You know what you made?"

"Of course," Malfoy said arrogantly. "I've made it before."

Lupin blinked. "Very well then, proceed."

A ghastly cold filled the room. Many students screamed as a black robed figure rose from Malfoy's cauldron, yellow eyes gleaming. It became hard to breath, and Harry held a hand to his throat in discomfort. Somewhere in the distance, Harry heard screaming. A moment later, Lupin reached into the explosion and plucked the black rock formed. Smoke licked down his arm and Lupin winced. The dog growled loudly.

"Mr. Malfoy's explosion is not usually classified as a mishap," Lupin said wryly. He deposited the rock on his table and covered his hand with his robe sleeve before continuing. "It is an old method used to create ire stones. Does anyone know what I'm referring to?"

A couple Slytherins raised their hands but Lupin shook his head. "I doubt any of you know the whole story. It's functions are similar to those of a dark creature called a dementor, who drains an individual of all happy thoughts. When kept with a witch or wizard, it makes them lose all sense of self, and they become filled with rage."

"In short," Lupin sighed, "they become psychotic murderers. Mr. Malfoy, while that was not what the assignment asked for, it is nonetheless an impressive potion. Well done."

The class seemed to have lost all will to continue, and Lupin understood.

"I think that's all the time we have for today," he said. "Ten points to everyone who exploded their cauldrons today and… let's see… five points to Miss Granger for answering my question earlier." Lupin smiled mysteriously. "And I have one last thing to show you."

The professor brought out his own cauldron. The liquid inside a pale lavender. "I created this during my first year. It was one of the few potions I was proud of. Please stand back, everyone."

Lupin added a drop of clear liquid from a vial before stepping back. The class held their breaths. Harry clutched his seat hard and fixed his eyes on the cauldron in the front.

The cauldron began singing. It was a song so beautiful, so haunting that the students in the back left their seats to listen more closely.

Harry thought he imagined it at first, but the slender body of a miniature woman scantily dressed rose from the cauldron, beckoning to them. He held his breath as the woman began dancing.

"She's beautiful…" Ron said in awe, climbing over the table towards the front. Hermione scoffed before a matching man rose beside the dancing woman. The man gave them a look that sent tingles down Harry's spine.

Hermione joined Ron and the other students in the front row. Harry rose from his seat to watch the tiny figure of man and woman writhe and curve around each other. Before he took a step forward however, he caught the mischievous gleam in Lupin's eyes. Straining his arms, Harry pulled himself back into the chair and looked away. The singing grew louder.

Abruptly, the song ended and a putrid stench filled the room with the distinctive sound of someone letting gas. The silence was followed by screeches from the girls. Harry looked forward to see that the erotic figures had vanished, and all the students clustered in the front were covered in a thick layer of dung colored slime. Cries of dismay echoed upwards and several students dashed for the exit.

Lupin was having a difficult time containing his laughter. "And that, I called the Siren Dungbomb. I did warn you all to stay back. Class dismissed. Take some time to clean yourselves off."

He caught sight of Harry and added. "Ten points to both Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter for not falling for the sirens."

Harry turned and saw that Malfoy was still sitting in his seat, sulking. When he saw Harry staring, he stood with a huff and stormed from the room.

* * *

The first class of Defense Against the Dark Arts, already a Gryffindor favorite, was nothing short of fantastical. Harry shared it with both Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, as student numbers were far too low in the three houses. Professor Black was five minutes late, plain dark robes billowing behind him imposingly as he took his place before the class.

"Why do you have your books out?" he asked. "We'll be having a practical lesson today, so put everything away except your wand."

With a general confused murmur, the class slipped books away into relative backpacks.

"Knowing Black," Ron whispered excitedly. "He'll make us fight some big dark creature he tamed."

Black led them briskly through the corridors until they reached a large room on the third floor. He held the door like a gentlemen until all the students filed inside.

Peeves, "the poltergeist," Ron whispered, had placed giant water pots over the doors, which tipped with a magnificent splash over the students first in line. Unfortunately, Hermione was one of them.

"This in unthinkable!" She raged, wringing her dripping sleeves. The ghost cackled in the background until Black stepped into the room and gave him a pointed look. Suddenly silent, Peeves vanished through the walls. Harry heard him cursing in the next room before vanishing.

"Now then," Black said mildly. "Let's get started. Look over in that corner of the room." The students turned their heads in unison and stared at the giant closet standing against one wall. As if sensing eyes on it, the closet rocked, clattering loudly against the wall.

Beside Harry, Neville shuddered.

"Can anyone tell me what hideous being lives in that closet?" Black asked. For a moment, the room was silent. Hermione raised her hand hesitantly.

"A boggart," she said. "They like small spaces."

Black raised an elegant eyebrow and nodded. "Excellent. There is indeed a boggart in that closet. I had several residing in my mansion. Merlin knows nobody cleans the place. Can anyone tell me why they may be dangerous?"

Once again Hermione's hand shot up. Black seemed amused. "Anyone else?"

A Ravenclaw boy ended up answering the question. "They are shape shifters and they change into what you are most afraid of."

"Which would," Black nodded. "Also make them mind readers in a sense. Why would we have an advantage over this dark creature today, Harry?"

Surprised at being addressed, Harry swallowed. Black was somehow quieter, less animated than Harry remembered. "Because, er…" he paused. "There's so many of us that it wouldn't know what to turn into?"

"Precisely," Black stepped in front of the closet. "There is a relatively simple charm to expel these creatures. Everyone repeat after me. _Ridikkulus!_"

The students dutifully echoed the word.

At that moment, for the second time that day, the door opened to admit a giant, shaggy black dog. Black caught sight of the creature and his eyes narrowed.

"Class, excuse me for a moment," he said briskly. Black robes billowing, he stalked up to the dog and grabbed it by the tail.

"This is Snuffles," Black said as the dog yelped. "Who I am very disappointed with for various reasons. Practice the spell and I shall be right back." That said, he dragged the large hound backwards out the door, and slammed it loudly.

"What happened there?" Ron wondered.

"No idea," Harry replied. "But why does Black know Lupin's dog? And he was acting a bit strange too."

"You noticed it too?" Hermione said thoughtfully. "He seems a bit too… teacher-like. He's doing better than I thought he would. It's almost like he's… Professor Lupin."

"As expected from a couple," Ron said loudly. "They even teach the same way."

"Ron that's just stupid," Hermione said. "We don't know if they're together, and what just happened is fishy. I'll need to look into it."

A scream erupted from the corner and the trio whipped around to see the closet door standing wide open. A pretty Gryffindor girl screamed. A severed hand leaped through the archway and scampered along the floor. The students scooted back, yelping. Someone in the crowd shouted _Ridikkulus_ but nothing happened.

The boggart, encouraged by the screams, transformed into a looming skeleton dragon, black smoke hissing through its nostrils. One huge claw smashed into the floor, sending up dust clouds.

"It's a…" Hermione stammered, eyes wide with fright. "It's just a boggart. Just a boggart, we- we-"

The boggart-dragon let out a screeching, high pitched sound. The ceiling shook and the dragon swiped one long skeleton claw against the walls. Aged, empty portraits clattered down. Students screamed as they were buried.

"_Ridikkulus!_" A deep, vibrant voice cut through the screams. The boggart-dragon hesitated, bright pink glazing over rotten skeletal claws. A blinding red spread over the dragon's mouth and a ridiculously florescent ribbon wound around its neck. It shook its huge head in confusion, puckered its red lips and tried to roar, but the sound the emerged was a high pitched, girly giggle.

Despite their recent fright, laughter erupted at the sight of the dragon with painted nails and lips and ribbon. Harry lifted his face to see Professor Black with black cloak swung around him, stance confident and wand drawn. Blue-silver lines ran down the edges of his cloak. His black hair was drawn into a low tail and the wide smirk Harry remembered was black on his face.

With a shriek, the boggart transformed into a small snake and crept back into the wardrobe. Swiftly, Black crossed the room and latched the door shut. "And that," he said evenly. "Is how we handle a boggart. What have we learned, class? You will never, _never_ touch a teacher's tools without permission. Throughout the year, I'll be bringing creatures that can and will kill you on sight."

His piercing gray eyes swept across the room. His voice was low. "Who opened it?"

A Ravenclaw boy raised his hand tentatively, squirming in fear as Black's gaze found him.

"Leave the room," Black said calmly. "I will not give detention, but you will make up for this class by joining the Upper Slytherins tomorrow. Understood? Go." The boy fled, eyes reddening.

"Harry, Ron!" Hermione hissed. She pointed to the door, where Professor Lupin, light hair messy and slightly flushed, stood at the door, gaze fixed on Black. Lupin saw some of the students glance back at him and swiftly vanished behind the door. "And look at Professor Black's robes! The silver lines weren't there before!"

"So?" Ron cocked his head, freckles flashing in the light. "What about them?"

"Professor Black changed clothes while he was gone," Harry said. "And Snuffles is gone."

"Harry, when we get back, I'm taking a look at our Potions textbook again," Hermione's eyes gleamed. "See if there are any potions that can make you… transform."

"Granger! Is there something you want to say?" Black asked, eyes warm again.

"No, sir," Hermione said, for once not looking sorry at all. "I'm sorry, I won't talk again."

"Good," Black reached behind him for the latch. "Now remember what I just said. Raise your wands and let's give this big boy an exercise he won't forget."

* * *

Much to Harry's dismay, Malfoy's company caught up to the Gryffindors just after their last class. Professor McGonagall, the transfiguration co-teacher, had given them three feet of questions to answer on the ethics, pros and cons of transforming people. Hermione was nearly skipping with glee, while the rest of them sagged with resignation.

"So if it isn't Potter and his little friends," Malfoy drawled. "Want to leave this sorry bunch for a bit of fun with us, Potter?" Beside him, Zabini's smile was creepily bright.

Harry glared at Malfoy. "No. We have erm… homework. So you can just go and bother someone else, thank you."

"And besides, Malfoy," Hermione said. "Don't you have detention with Professor Lupin? You don't want his monstrously big dog to bite off your head next class, do you? I'll bet that dog hates you and is just _dying_ to bite you."

"One more word out of you, mudblood," Malfoy gritted his teeth, them stopped. "But you all should be a little bit nicer, Gryffindors. We've found something down in Potions… shall we say…" With an elegant smirk, he gestured to one of his body guards. Goyle, the one without bandages over his eyes from the Potions accident earlier, stepped forward and reached into one loose pocket. A loud croak rang in the room.

Goyle drew out a plain, spotted toad and one of the Gryffindor boys let out a loud cry. He pushed his way towards the front, pale eyes frantic. "Trevor!"

"Neville's toad," Ron said unnecessarily, face beginning to redden from anger. "Give that back, Malfoy."

"I will," Malfoy said unexpectedly, gaze fixed on Harry. "If Neville here will convince Potter to do something for me, I'll give the toad back right away. What do you say, Neville?"

The skittish boy looked from the toad to Harry, mouth dropping open several times, but didn't speak. His eyes, however, were pleading. Harry felt his heart pound fast as he looked back at Draco, smirk still in place.

Sniffing loudly, Neville turned away from Harry and advanced upon the Upper Slytherins, trembling like a leaf. "I'm…" he stammered. "I'm not going to le… let you pick on Harry. You… you give Trevor back."

Zabini laughed out loud, the sound echoed gruffly in the hallway. The other Slytherins followed with broken chuckles of their own.

"Some loyal friends you have here, Harry," Malfoy grinned. "What, aren't you going to help him?"

"Yes," Harry said, voice cracking. He cleared his throat. "Yes! Now give him back the toad, Malfoy!"

One of Malfoy's blond eyebrows raised. "Really, _Harry_? Come here then."

Fists clenched, Harry shook off Ron's hand and stomped forward. Malfoy didn't move until Harry was a foot away, then he reached out and grabbed Harry's collar. Harry heard his friends protest behind him, but was distracted when Malfoy leaned in to whisper in his ear.

"You landed me in detention, _Harry_. How are you going to pay for that?" Malfoy asked. Harry's spine stiffened.

"You got detention on your own, _Malfoy_," he hissed, trying to pull away. However, Malfoy's other hand came up to grab his arm. Harry felt himself panic. "What do you _want_, Malfoy! Just say it!"

Malfoy's lips brushed against Harry's ear as he smirked. "I want you to kneel down, kiss my hand and say, 'it's a pleasure to meet you, Sir Draco.'"

Harry pushed hard on Malfoy's shoulders, dislodging him. His face was flushed red. "That's disgusting!"

Malfoy stepped back easily, grinning in satisfaction. "You promised, _Harry. _Are you backing out?"

"Harry, you don't have to-" Neville began.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" Harry snapped. He straightened and stared the taller boy in the eye. "I'll do it, so just give him the toad."

Malfoy gestured. Quickly, Zabini snatched the toad from Goyle and stepped up to Neville, who cowered and closed his eyes. Hands deliberately slow, Zabini pulled Neville's collar loose and dropped the toad down his robe.

The Slytherins resumed laughing as Neville squeaked and fled back towards his housemates, face red and humiliated.

"Now your end of the bargain, Harry?" Malfoy asked, holding out his hand.

Pushing messy black hair from his eyes, Harry slowly swept the most elaborate bow he could, falling dramatically onto one knee and took Malfoy's hand. Ignoring the gags threatening to overflow him, he pressed his lips to the pale hand.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Harry said. He tensed his legs and paused. "Lady Draco, you're beautiful." He leaped to his feet and backed away.

A second later, all the Gryffindor first year were laughing and sprinting towards their dorms, while Malfoy sputtered and his companions tried to hold back snorts, some failing.

* * *

"You didn't have to, Moony…"

"Didn't have to what?"

"Take over my class. I wasn't _that_ late."

"Professor Padfoot, you were almost thirty minutes late for your first class this year. There would've no students left for you to teach if I hadn't taken over."

"Good riddance I say. Thank Merlin you didn't ruin my reputation."

"Reputation, Black? What reputation? And besides, _you_ didn't have to, either."

"Didn't have to what?"

"Show up in the middle of my class to protect me from the oh-so-frightening Malfoy junior. I say the class went far better than I thought."

"Whoever said I came to protect you? You flatter yourself, Moony."

"…"

"Alright, alright, I admit it. So I was worried. After all, if I wasn't there, you might've destroyed Malfoy on the spot. And no matter that he's a brat, I still need to protect family, don't I?"

* * *

"Ah, so glad you could make it Mr. Malfoy, have a seat."

"…"

"For detention today… I think I'll teach you how to brew the Siren Dungbomb I showed the class earlier."

"What?"

"Don't look so astonished, Mr. Malfoy, it is absolutely a punishment. You will brew it in a small room, and you make it again and again until you can show me how to dodge it completely."

"But that's impossible! My father will hear of this!"

"Yes, yes. In any case, Mr. Malfoy, I hope you're not terribly fond of those robes you're wearing."

* * *

Author's Note:

Well… I'm back. I wasn't dead, or sick, or even that busy… just… away. I'm so sorry about that, everyone. Hopefully, this chapter did not disappoint. The ending was a little bit rushed, I know. And now, I really can't promise when updates are going to be. But I will not abandon any of my stories, if it takes me decades to finish them…

Hope that was understandable for everyone… Sirius came to Remus' class as Snuffles, and then was late for his own class. Remus Polyjuiced himself and started teaching for him. When Sirius showed up, as Snuffles again, Remus was obviously angry and dragged the dog away.

In this chapter, if you squint, I think you can see a little bit of BlaisexNeville. That's a sort of… guilty pleasure of mine, but it shouldn't come up much at all.

Sorry there isn't as much DracoxHarry action this rather short chapter. I don't have the next chapter planned out exactly, but there should be more. Let's hope Draco's nicer after his detention. And flying/brooms should be coming up soon.

obsidian-ran: Thank you! Draco will hopefully be cooler after he gets a spanking and becomes just a tiny, tiny, tiny bit nicer.

aDeLia AdRieLLe: Heheh… it's a bit too late for pre-hogwarts, but I'll definitely have a pov from Draco soon. So far, I think Draco's only interested right now, not in love yet. Thanks for reviewing.

O r i g i n a l: Here I am! Almost a year later! Hope you aren't too disappointed.

strawberry buttercup: After this chapter, Draco will be rethinking his ways. Muahahaha, he'll pick on Harry in more discreet ways. He won't be quite so mean either, though.

Raincurtain: Fun pen-name, I like! When you get the backstory a bit more, this fic may become more serious. Hope Malfoy wasn't TOO annoying this chapter.

OucdaTiresum: There! Draco got picked on by Remus. Remus can be a bad guy and we'll still love him, right? Besides, I think Harry's closeness to Ron and Hermione is bugging Draco already.

I-see-thestrals: No no, I won't abandon this. I always come back to my stories eventually. Thanks so much for reviewing.

Harpy Wings: I'm glad you think it's original. I hope I can keep it up…

Jjinks: HERE's more. I'm glad you like. Please don't abandon this fic, even though it updates so slowly.

fudgebaby: Don't feel bad for Harry, he can stand up for himself, right? He's a tough boy.

hazel-3017: Thank you!

lysryu: Hm? Harry could understand the runespoor. He heard the 3 heads arguing… Maybe I didn't state it clearly enough, and I'll clear that up in future chapters. But yes, in this AU, Harry does understand Parseltongue. Heh… bated breath… that's good, should find somewhere to plunk it into the story… :P, just kidding.

Happy Emily: What happens next? Well, Harry becomes a big apple, Draco becomes a pear, and together, they make an apt-pair. Nvm, that's a very bad pun. Truthfully, I don't even know what comes next.

Lady Gaidin: Forced kissing? Eleven year olds? Gosh, that's early, but it's good. There's some forced kissing in this chatper. We'll say Draco matures early, ne? But then… (shakes head) kids these days do that anyway. Thanks!  


EveBB: Nope, haven't abandoned it. And there isn't really going to be 'fighting' in this fic. Voldemort will just like… die of old age or something. Maybe he still wants the philosopher's stone? I'm not sure yet.

emeraud.silver: An update! Not too long a wait, I hope.

KillerDustBunny: Thank you for giving this fic a second chance after the summary! I know the summary sucks and I know it's been a million bizillion years since my update, I'm so sorry! But I won't abandon this, so please keep reading!

Sora Jr: Thank you, I'm definitely continuing this story.

thrnbrooke: I'm sorry it took so long, and I have no excuse. Hopefully, everyone'll forgive me.

Dream-rise: I think Harry's gift with snakes will come up again in one of Sirius' DADA classes. I haven't really decided that yet, so if you have any ideas, it'll be wonderful.

writerlover101: I'm so happy you find it different and unique. Sorry I didn't update sooner. O.o

FlamencoPenguin: Don't be sorry, I should be sorry for not updating and stuff. You've given such a good review that I was giddy for days after reading it! Thank you so much! Draco's definitely not nice, and there's a bit more Sirius Remus stuff in this one. They're definitely comfortable together. As for Harry and Dumbledore, that'll hopefully be cleared up later.

Cracked Moon: smack! What are you thinking? They're only eleven! Of course they won't be… doing stuff… yet… thanks for reviewing!

hurtinphoenix: Aw.. Why is the phoenix hurting? Of course this'll be a DracoxHarry! Evil dictator Malfoy is interested and we can't let poor little Harry run away, can we? (insert evil laughter)

Illusionwolf: Eight months isn't exactly soon, but I hope you give it another chance and are still reading this. Thank you so much!

PHI-1.618: What an interesting name! What does it mean? Well, now you know. Hopefully, it's still interesting.

Lady Silverhawk: Odd is good. I like odd. Thank you for reviewing!

CAP.L: O.O… Pedo Voldy. No, no, no! Draco, what are you going to do? He's old enough to be your great grandfather! Nah… I think… if Voldy was interested in anyone (cough, cough, bad image go away), he would've passed the law himself.

animegurl088: Thank you!

Duchessa: Yeah, blubber-weepy Harry needs to be reasonable. And no, Draco didn't even consider that Harry might be a parselmouth. Erm… did I promise to explain Siri/Rem in this chapter? Well… I gave a little bit more on them, if that counts. Thanks so much for the wonderful review!

Whew… no pressure… no pressure at all…

BabyDragon848: I love you reviewers too! Thank you!

DrOwNiNg In EbOnY: You're filming D/H? Send me a copy! Whee! But yeah, no slash… exactly… for a bit. Hopefully you'll still have patience and read more. We'll get there eventually.

storywriter10791: Oh my, capitals! Sorry that I took such a long time! Thanks for the review.

EsScaper: Really? I'm glad you think this fic is unique. Thanks so much! And Harry got his glasses back, let's cheer!

Imperfection Is A Bliss: More capitals! Harry? Steal Draco's title? Not likely. And the love will come… slowly. Just like the updates. No, just kidding. I'll try my very best to get more updates. Thank you for reviewing!

OrionLuckyStar: Marauders, Generation 2! That'll be a cool idea, but I'm not sure about it in this story. Draco will feel too left out, wouldn't he? The updates will come… sooner or later, thanks for waiting!

Zoomi: Oh, Draco wants a lot more from Harry than respect and fear… muahaha. He'll go back to his (slightly) cooler self after this chapter. Thanks for reviewing! HD FTW!

mechan: Here's an update, but it's been a long time, and I hope you weren't too disappointed.

Nicki L.: Thank you so much! Glad you're still reading.

rei0kitsune: (hugs Harry) Yeah, Harry's really cute. That's why Draco's interested, ne? Thanks for reviewing!

rayama: Sirius/Remus sides of the story will be explained soon, I hope. But they do have a valid reason for everything, you'll see.

dairygirl: Yeah… Draco will be hard to write, but I'll try my very best! He'll be kept as an interesting bully who isn't too bad on the inside. After this chapter, he'll start doing more sneaky things, and the occasional nice thing too, just fo a change.

TeeDee: We're sadistic, that's why we enjoy Harry-torture, right? Well… not TOO much torture. Just nice… discomforts. I'm glad you can tell that Draco's basically having a crush. Thanks!

triola: Oh… I'm sure Harry wouldn't be able to resist Draco for long. Thank you so much for the review!

aescuridaovem: Funky name. I feel even more fuzzy when I get all your awetastic reviews. Sorry about the big, big, big wait. The ice-cream all melted. Aww…

Mikril-dey


	5. The Problem with Quidditch

**Harry Potter and the School for Pureblood Wizards**

Summary: Five years before Harry Potter ever heard the word "wizard," Voldemort took over Britain and much of western Europe. Perhaps as a cruel joke, Harry still received a letter from Hogwarts, and now must survive school under the thumb of the "prince" of the wizarding world.

Chapter rating: K, I think there's a tiny bit of malexmale attraction if you squint, and there is reference to a malexmale couple, so rated for slightly controversial themes

Pairing: DMxHP with minor SBxRL

Warning: slash, fluff, lemon, power differentials (this story _will_ contain homosexual relationships, so if you don't understand the implications, please refrain from reading).

Type: AU, romance, drama

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, Raincoast Books and others.

Chapter 5, Part A: The Problem with Quidditch

Harry had pinned the card of Albus Dumbledore to the inside of his lower bunk bed. Ron and his roommates had laughed at him, but it was a good-natured sort of ribbing, which made him flush and grin instead of grit his teeth. For that first week, as Draco Malfoy plagued his steps and taunted in his ear, pressing closer than necessary, Harry retreated at night to stare at the moving photograph in the card. It wasn't so bad, he told himself, nobody had touched him once at Hogwarts, and all his bruises had begun to heal.

In fact, if he was honest, he smiled when he thought of a few of his comebacks against Malfoy as well. After the first few days, he'd quickly lost the fear of physical retaliation. The unexpectedness of Malfoy's appearances and antics still frightened him, but it was a slow-building nervousness rather than the initial stark terror. Whatever else the Slytherines did or said, none of them had yet to resort to excessive violence.

Still, Harry had never believed he would meet a boy he hated more than Dudley, but Draco Malfoy, the _prat_, was climbing remarkably high in his ire. A different kind of hatred, perhaps. But still.

Classes were quickly divided into those shared with Slytherin and those shared with the rest of the school, and despite teachers like Lupin, sharing a class with Malfoy still set Harry's teeth on edge. He found out during the weekend that flying lessons would start Thursday, and that they would be sharing lessons with Slytherins.

"Another class with them. I don't need to give Malfoy more ammunition," Harry grumbled. "He'd never let me live it down if I fall."

"I'd rather," Hermione said. She shook her head. "If I have to hear the word 'mudblood' one more time, I might scream."

"Cheer up," Ron said sympathetically. "Flying's fantastic and you don't know that you'll fall. Malfoy brags about how good he is at Quidditch, but I'll bet that's all talk. Say," he paused, "have I ever told you about the hang-glider I crashed into on my old broom?"

"Only about nine times, Ron," Hermione sighed. "If only you were half so enthusiastic about homework."

The only one who seemed as nervous about flying was Neville, who'd never been on a broom before because of a paranoid grandmother. As Neville had even more accidents than Harry, perhaps this was a sound decision.

Hermione was terrified for a single day, hidden at the back of the library reading through every book she could find, but soon shook off the nerves. Bullying, and Hermione received a lot of bullying, perhaps more than Harry did, gave Hermione a stony complacency which bothered Harry. She readily agreed with Slytherin insults, meeting their eyes with mouth set in a hard line. She dealt with the idea of flying in much the same way. "I'll just practice," she said matter-of-factly. "I'll practice more."

The lesson itself, taught by the strict Madam Hooch, started without fanfare. She had bound her gray hair back tightly enough to give her a perpetually grim expression. "The brooms some of you brought with you have been laid out on the field. We understand that not all of you have the means or channels to acquire a broom. If you did not provide the school with a broom of your own, you'll be given one by the school. You may use this broom for the duration of your school year. You may choose to purchase your brooms at a fair price after the year if you wish, or you may be assigned another next year."

However, when students were instructed to take their pre-assigned places, Harry looked down at his hand and realized he stood next to a wet mop, and a puddle reached out to catch his feet.

"What - " Harry jumped back and glared at Malfoy from across the rows of students.

Malfoy winked and called back, "Brings out the texture of your hair, Potter."

"That little..." Ron growled.

"Ron, don't," Hermione said sharply, but her face was pale. In place of her broomstick, was a mud-stained dishrag.

"What's going on?" Madam Hooch demanded, weaving through the crowd of students towards them.

Malfoy slung his broom over his shoulders, which Harry noticed was a sleek silver thing with jet-black bristles, and approached as well. "I wonder," he said. "Seems as though we've run out of school brooms. Don't worry though, Madam, Potter and I can share." He grinned and dragged out the last word. "I wouldn't mind at all."

"In your dreams, Malfoy," Harry muttered. The older boy flinched, eyes leaving Harry's face for Madam Hooch's.

Madam Hooch was looking at the dishrag at Hermione's feet. Harry thought perhaps she was angry. "Miss Granger, is it? Just so I understand the situation, you're not a pureblood?"

"No," Hermione said, voice adopting that hard edge Harry was beginning to hate.

Without a word, Madam Hooch thrust her own broom at Hermione. "Use this one, Miss Granger. Mr. Potter, come with me."

There were, in fact, other school brooms in the shed. Harry picked one which looked slightly less old, and the twigs did not stick out so prominently.

They arrived back at the field in time to see Neville shoot straight into the sky, goaded on by the whooping calls of the Slytherins. Madam Hooch gave a shout, but it was too late, as Neville slid sideways off his broom and fell.

Harry felt himself gasp, and the broom in his hands vibrated. Before he knew, he was mounted like he'd seen in Hermione's books and Ron's posters over the broom handle.

He'd darted forwards through the crowds, dodging the tail ends of student robes, and was halfway across the field by the time Neville hit the ground. Harry skidded to a halt, panting and heart beating. He looked back at the trail his broom left in the grass, and then back at Neville, who whimpered and cradled his arm. Even the Slytherins were quiet.

Neville's broomstick, still lazily swaying in the clouds above, began to drift towards the forbidden forest.

Madam Hooch was bending over the fallen boy, face white and strained. She tugged at the boy with surprising gentleness. "Fractured wrist," she muttered. "Alright, boy, Mr. Longbottom. Were you provoked?"

The Slytherins nearby howled indignantly, but Madam Hooch silenced them with a look. "Just so we're perfectly clear. I don't care what you students do outside of flying or Quidditch, but I'll tolerate no bullying on my field. It's too dangerous here, and you are all too young to know what you're doing, to have blood on your hands. Leave your bullying before you enter the change rooms. I'm not afraid to suspend anyone." Her yellow hawk eyes went to Malfoy, who simply looked angry. "Anyone."

Parvati Patil, a fellow Griffindor, spoke up slowly in the following silence. "Madam Hooch," she said. "This time, the Slytherins were only laughing among themselves and Neville spooked. At least this time, they didn't do anything."

"This true?" Madam Hooch asked.

Neville, white-faced, nodded.

Madam Hooch deflated. "Then I'm sorry. I overreacted. I've seen... too many... incidents on my field in my lifetime. Five points to Slytherin as an apology. Thank you, Miss Patil, for explaining. Mr. Potter? Help me take the boy to the hospital. The rest of you, put your brooms away for the day. We will reschedule for, perhaps Saturday."

Still clenching the broom, Harry nodded, heartbeat slowing slightly. They supported Neville between them, and entered in through the castle doors again. As soon as they entered, Madam Hooch pointed her wand at Neville and levitated him. Harry glanced between the floating boy, still whimpering, at the flying instructor.

"There is a matter to be discussed," Madam Hooch said.

Up the side steps and around the shifting corridors towards the infirmary. As soon as they were situated inside the sanitary white of the infirmary, Madam Hooch briefly vanished.

"Thanks Harry," Neville said as he was eased into the bed.

"For what?" Harry asked.

"That was an incredible dash. I saw you, even as I was screaming and falling and stuff. I thought you'd actually catch up. But you'd never been on a broom before, right? How did you - "

"That's enough talking, Longbottom." Madam Hooch had apparently fetched Professor McGonagall. "The nurse will see you in a moment and Rolanda, Madam Hooch, will stay with you. Follow me, Potter."

And then Harry was even more confused. Perhaps there was some sort of mistake. Perhaps he'd finally overstepped in his responses to Malfoy and was about to be kicked out. Just as he rode down the adrenalin from observing a friend fall from at least thirty-feet up, he could feel his heart quicken again. He followed the woman through the halls, up another flight of stairs towards a corridor of classrooms. Professor McGonagall stopped before one and rapped smartly on the door.

"Excuse me, Professor Quirrell, I'll need Wood for a moment."

"We're in the middle of class, see. I can hardly..." But even as Professor Quirrell, a man with short cropped hair and overly thin fingers, spoke, his voice trembled. He stopped when he saw Harry. His eyes lingered just slightly too long before he remembered what he wanted to say.

By that time, Wood had already left his seat and was headed for the door. He was a thickly built fifth-year student, who stepped out into the hall with an interestingly mixed expression on his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but Professor McGonagall closed the classroom door and interrupted.

"You asked Madam Hooch to find you another Seeker."

"I... yes, Professor." Wood looked down at his feet.

Professor McGonagall ran a hand through her thick hair, sighing heavily. "She found you someone. Potter, this is Oliver Wood, Captain of the Griffindor Quidditch team."

Harry shook hands with Wood, who squeezed a little too tightly. Harry wasn't sure he could follow the conversation. Wood looked Harry up and down. "He's the build for a Seeker. Small, speedy. He can use What did Madam Hooch say about him?" He paused. "Sorry, Professor, I just..." when he looked up, there was a hard, rough edge to his voice, "I want to beat them. No, I want to _flatten_ them. I want to show them that at least here, they can't always win. I need a full team to do that."

Professor McGonagall closed her eyes slowly and nodded. When she spoke again, her voice was kind, "I understand. Go back to class and I'll speak to Potter about it."

Oliver Wood shook Harry's hand one more time. "I'm asking for a lot," he said. "Please, consider it."

When the fifth-year vanished inside the room, Harry spoke up, "Professor, I don't understand. What did I do?"

"Apparently, Madam Hooch hadn't seen that amount of natural talent in a little while. First time on a broomstick, as we can safely assume, and you darted through a dense crowd in a matter of a split second, didn't even think about it. She thinks you can qualify for the Seeker position on our House Team." Professor McGonagall did not look at Harry through this.

"Oh," Harry said faintly. "Why do you need a new Seeker?"

"Geoffrey Hooper disappeared." Professor McGonagall turned around then, peering sternly over her glasses. "When I say this, I want you to understand my full meaning, Potter. We did well last year, almost beat Slytherin for the cup, and Hooper was good. He disappeared over this last summer and he hasn't been found. His parents were devastated. Here, we protect our students, but as soon as you leave these grounds..." Her voice trailed off.

"We've had our share of threats and letters and harassment. But nothing like this had happened before, and the team was shaken. You're under a lot of fire here, being who you are. I understand if you don't want to take the risk."

"I'll do it." Harry breathed out. "I mean, if I try and I'm good enough. I want to."

Professor McGonagall shook her head. Her expression was unreadable. "I was afraid of that." She smiled then. "Your father would have been proud," she said. "He was... I suppose I'm allowed to tell you this... he was an excellent Quidditch player himself."

* * *

If Harry thought he could return to the Griffindor common room without incident, he was wrong. He nearly tripped over Malfoy and down the stairs as soon as he departed from Professor McGonagall.

Malfoy steadied Harry with a hand that squeezed almost too tightly. He didn't let go. "Erm..." Harry swallowed, thrown a little off guard by the fact that Malfoy seemed to be alone. "What are you doing?"

"Not about to be expelled now, are we, Potter?" Malfoy drawled.

"No, not that it's any of your business." Harry pulled his arm back viciously and tried to push past. Malfoy, though, was bigger, and moved to block Harry's path. Standing on the step below, they were eye-to-eye and to Harry's dismay, much too close. Harry backed up a step so he could breathe more easily. "Move, Malfoy."

"Was that an order, Harry?" Malfoy actually laughed. It wasn't the ugly, sneering sound he used when laughing at Neville or Hermione. This one, at least, didn't turn Harry's stomach. Still, Malfoy wasn't good for Harry's digestion. Harry didn't understand the unease in his gut, the chills, or his quickened pulse, whenever Malfoy spoke to him. It wasn't like running away from Dudley, terrified and trying not to cry, but it was the only thing Harry could compare it to.

"Alright, I'll play." Malfoy stepped up, once again moving into Harry's personal space. He leaned in and his voice was low and tense, "_make_ me."

It took every bit of self control Harry had not to shove the older boy down the stairs. "That would make me as horrible as you," Harry spat.

Harry would not forget the expression on Draco Malfoy's face then. There was surprise there, and something Harry quickly dismissed because Malfoy didn't _do_ hurt. The expression was gone so quickly Harry's head reeled. Anger replaced it, as dark as any Uncle Vernon had ever displayed, and Harry reacted instinctively to it, scurrying back several steps. Malfoy's elegant face wore the expression better, almost gracefully, and that scared Harry as much as Uncle Vernon's fist. Static crackled around Malfoy. For the first time, past the pampered princeling impression and the pettiness, Harry could clearly see why Malfoy was called the Dark Lord's heir.

In a move that would haunt him for days, Harry abandoned his Griffindor courage. With the memory of Uncle Vernon fresh in his mind, and every bruise he'd ever gotten aching anew, Harry fled.

Draco Malfoy didn't chase him.

* * *

Later on in their warm corner of the common room, Ron and Hermione perfectly represented how Harry felt: conflicted. Except Harry also felt guilt.

"That's so bloody brilliant!" Ron gushed. "Rules have changed a bit, but they still don't let many first years on the team."

"I'm not on the team yet," Harry was hasty to amend. "That's just... they haven't actually seen me fly, and I've not really flown. It's just to try it out. I'm sure if you asked, you could try out for them as well."

"Harry," Hermione tugged at his arm urgently. She hissed, "Hooper's _missing_. You're not taking this seriously enough. You don't need another bull's eye on your back. Ron too. I know you want to retaliate, but it's not worth your life or your education."

"If I've already got one painted on me, I don't care," Harry shot back. "I'm worried too, Hermione, but you should've seen Oliver Wood. He was so guilty, but he wanted to beat them so badly I could feel it. And I feel the same. I don't want to let them win." He winced. And Harry wanted to be more like Oliver Wood. "I don't want to see you just accept all those insults like that."

Hermione laughed. "Oh come on, Harry. Schoolyard bullying happens in every school. It hardly matters."

"It matters to me!" Harry said. His words were bitter in his mouth. He'd run from Draco Malfoy, a boy half Dudley's size. And it wasn't because he was outnumbered or because Malfoy had even done anything. Harry fled because he was _used_ to it.

Hermione was about to reply, but Ron cut her off.

"I'd do it too," Ron said angrily. "I'll try out, like Harry says. You haven't heard your voice lately, Hermione. It's downright scary. I hate it. You and all the others who aren't purebloods. Being your friend, both of you, and I can't do anything. I can't say anything. Did you know our family was nearly broke before the Dark Lord took over? Mum and Dad would've never been able buy us all brooms, and we wouldn't have our own rooms and stuff. When I was little I used to think it was great, because I remember being poor, but even then I was guilty. I knew where the money was coming from. Sometimes, I worry that I'm just like the rest of them and I..."

Ron took a deep breath. "So er... tryouts are next week, and I'm going to try. Harry'll be there too, and so you should come watch us."

Hermione looked taken aback. She looked away for a moment before grabbing both their hands. "Thanks," she said softly. She continued, uncharacteristically hesitant. "I mean... just... there's more than one kind of courage, right? Being able to look past these things is a sign of maturity, so I thought I could, but I don't think I can anymore. You're right. Did you know? The tactics around Quidditch is quite complex, really. I've been looking over all the old games and I'm impressed."

Harry bit his lips. Ron and Hermione could make him braver. "Would you two like to come pick up Hooper's old broomstick with me? They said I can use that one if I make Seeker, and they're pretty sure I might."

* * *

"That," Professor McGonagall stared, "was not Geoffrey Hooper's broomstick."

"Well," Professor Black pretended to consider, "it is. At least I think it is." In his hands, he held a half-unravelled package.

Next to him, Harry could practically feel Ron vibrate with excitement. Even though he knew nothing about broomsticks (though quite a bit about vacuum cleaners, since Aunt Petunia had made him do housework for years), Harry thought the broom looked a notch above most of the brooms outside in the field. Slender and compact, with a sweeping tail of dark twigs flared out at the tips ("For better banking," Ron whispered heatedly). The handle was dark mahogany and the edge of golden-plated words could be seen at the side disappearing into the wrapping.

"It's wrapped," Professor McGonagall said stiffly. "And new."

"It's a customized _Nimbus Two Thousand_," Professor Black gloated. "A _Nighthawk_. I'll bet it's a match for anything that Malfoy brat, not to say anything bad against family, of course, can get his grubby paws on."

"Customized," Professor McGonagall repeated. "Black, can I speak to you in private?"

"_Minerva_," Black said, eyebrows arched pointedly. "It's fine. Here, Harry. Take this and get back before curfew. I'm off to get spanked by the head professor here. She's not my type, but what can I say, she outranks me."

Professor McGonagall flushed deep to her roots. "Black, you incorrigible little - "

Which left Harry with a half-unravelled broom in hand and Ron and Hermione exchanging looks of confusion. Hermione's though, were perhaps a touch more thoughtful than Ron's.

* * *

Chapter 5, Part B: Hedwig and Apollo 

Every morning, owls rained through the great hall, spewing feathers and letters. During this, Harry would look down at his bowl. Harry had never, in his days at Hogwarts, received a letter: a fact Ron quickly noticed and attempted to remedy by sharing the treats he received from home.

Hermione received letters too, though these were brought by a confused post owl who circled the halls several times because they could not read the muggle postal addresses. They were long expansive letters in neat handwriting, and Hermione, unlike any other first-year Harry knew, wrote back responses which were equally long and often made trips up to the Owlery. That is, until Malfoy tripped her and she sprained her ankle.

Neville's owl was found outside the Owlery one day leashed to a pile of bushes, feathers ragged from pulling at the leash.

Malfoy kept his eagle owl with him, and it often brought him sweets and expensive-looking trinkets, which he gloated over his table. Ron never failed to cast a condescending eye over to the Slytherin table and mutter "git" under his breath.

Twice, a snowy owl dropped into the hall, scattering others around it, and landed by Malfoy. This owl didn't deliver sweets or trinkets, but always a single letter sealed in plain envelope. What struck Harry most about this owl was not that it was white or that it delivered to Malfoy, but the myriad of red cuts and patches along its underside, and the way Malfoy's eagle owl always eyed the newcomer.

Since the encounter at the stairs, Harry hadn't actually run into Malfoy for weeks, but he was still intensely aware of Malfoy's heated gaze on him. It was easier to ignore in classes, distracted as he was by the lectures. At breakfast, Harry couldn't put it out of his mind. And he was sure Malfoy noticed he never got any letters as well.

That day, Harry received his first letter. A small and generically brown postal owl. He didn't recognize the return address or the handwriting, though admittedly he didn't know very many people's handwriting.

At Ron's and Hermione's prompts, Harry slipped it open and promptly felt his eyes water.

The letter was from Molly Weasley.

_Harry,  
I hope you remember me from Diagon Alley. I heard you made the Quidditch team as a first year. Ron wouldn't stop boasting about you, though he flunked terribly at his own tryouts, and I'm so proud. And so happy Ron has a friend like you. You're a great influence.  
If there's anything you need at all, dear, you'll let us know, won't you? I can't help worrying, things being how they are. At least the teachers are proper. I've included a new batch of banana muffins, and you'll try them or I'll have Ron tell me.  
I hope for the best for you, Harry, and please owl me some time.  
Mrs. Weasley_

Harry looked up at Ron, who shrugged and gestured across the table. "Was Hermione's idea, since you'd met mum and all. And she wanted to owl you all along, but wasn't sure if it'd be appropriate. She's so enthused my little sister's affected too. Ginny's talking like she'd met you too."

"Thanks," Harry breathed. "Thanks Hermione."

"I didn't do anything," Hermione smiled, and then frowned. "Malfoy's got the white owl again. Have you noticed how tense he gets after it? He doesn't brag about that second letter like the prat he usually is."

And sure enough, the snowy owl dropped through the air towards Malfoy. Harry noticed its right wing was bloody, and it flapped more frantically.

"Everyone knows Malfoys are cruel," Ron said darkly. "The way they treat their house elves and birds. I feel sorry for that owl."

Harry wanted to point out that Malfoy's eagle owl was the most magnificent bird in the hall and knew it, and that Malfoy doted on the thing. So Malfoy obviously showed favorism. But at that moment, Malfoy dismissed himself from the table and strode angrily through the halls and back out the doors on the other side. The great doors slammed shut.

"What's got his knickers in a knot?" Ron wondered.

"I don't know," Harry said.

Ron snickered. "Think his folks found his stash of boobie magazines?"

"Ron!" Hermione hissed. "You're downright foul!"

* * *

Harry dismissed himself early from the meal in order to write a quick response to Mrs. Weasley. He waved off Ron and Hermione's offer to follow, a little self-conscious about the whole affair. He climbed the steep stairs up to the west tower, shivering when the air got steadily colder. They were well into November then, and Harry had begun to wear both sets of his shabby robes at the same time to ward off the chill. His shoes weren't quite adequate for the early snow either. It'd never been so cold at Privet drive, and Harry wasn't sure who he could ask. This, he was pretty sure neither Ron and Hermione had noticed yet.

Perhaps over the winter, during break, he could simply stay in the common room and not venture outside. Sandwiches and refreshments were often brought, so Harry was sure he wouldn't starve.

He stopped when he noticed the door to the Owlery was open. White morning light came in through the long windows beyond.

He heard the high-pitched screaming then. Inhuman, but sharp and desperate. Harry took the remainder of the stairs two at a time, crashing into the doorway.

Malfoy's eagle owl had the injured white owl pinned to the ground, talons tangled and feathers broadly puffed out. Down floated everywhere. The surrounding owls screeched as well.

Malfoy stood next to the door, a thick envelope also in hand. Harry whirled on him, teeth gritted.

"Stop it!" Harry shouted. "Stop it, you git!"

Malfoy looked at Harry, momentarily startled before his expression hardened. "Make me."

Instead, Harry launched himself between the birds. The eagle owl immediately lifted off, talons tightly clutched against its underside. The snowy owl, though, panicked, clawed at Harry through his robes. Harry yelped and released the bird when the talon cut his cheek. The white owl collapsed on the floor of the Owlery a little ways away, still howling.

Malfoy was pale and his fists were clenched. "You think I'm horrible, do you?"

"Aren't you?" Harry countered. He stood, red-faced and angry. "Treating Hermione and the others like that? All the jeers and insults and humiliation. You pushed her down the stairs here. You let your family or whatever hurt that bird. You think you're prince of this school, but people like Ron or Hermione or Seamus or Dean or Parvatti or Oliver Wood, they're better than you! Thinking about it, you are horrible! You've just gotten worse since school started. I hate you more than I've hated anyone, even Dudley!"

"Dudley," Malfoy said. He advanced. This time, Harry held his ground, though it was still a near thing. However, Harry knew he shook visibly and felt a flush of humiliation. Malfoy reached out for the cut on his chin and Harry struck the offending hand down. "And do your little mudblood friends know? How you sissy away like this? Do they know about Dudley?"

"Shut up!" Harry yelled hoarsely. "Shut up! Stop staring at me all the time! Just leave me alone!"

"Stop yelling!" Malfoy finally raised his voice. "You'd think I was trying to kill you!"

"Harry? Draco? I heard raised voices. Are both of you alright?"

They looked up at the concerned face of Professor Lupin. The man stepped into the Owlery and for a moment, just stared at the wounded owl and the tension he could cut with a knife. Malfoy narrowed his eyes, scowling and hiding the envelope in his hands. "It's none of your business, Lupin."

Professor Lupin's eyes snapped to Malfoy for a moment, but his voice remained mild when he spoke. "Draco, Professor Lupin please."

"Harry, are you hurt?" He asked, turning to Harry. Harry shook his head. The professor whispered something low and quiet with a flick of his wand. Behind Harry, the white owl stilled, sleeping. "Why don't you take the bird to Hagrid for me? She can't carry anything in her state. Also, visit the infirmary afterwards so Poppy can take a look at you. I'll check in with you there."

She. Harry hadn't known the owl was female. He nodded numbly and retrieved the owl's limp, heavy body from the damp ground. The blood soaked into his sleeve edges, but whatever spell the professor had used, the cuts were already healing. Harry swayed a little at the top of the stairs. Professor Lupin watched him go, opened his mouth to speak, but decided against it. He sighed when Harry's form disappeared down the stairs.

"You're not going to follow the injured boy," Malfoy sneered. "Is there something I should know about Hogwarts?"

"You ran out of breakfast after the owl and I wondered. Are you alright, Draco?" Professor Lupin looked around at the owls and shuddered at a sudden chill in the tower. He worked his hands into his robe pockets.

"In case you're confused, the head of my house is Professor Snape. I'm none of your business. Now get out of here."

"That was the Dark Lord's owl, wasn't it, Draco? I won't suggest that it's not an important matter, or that you should be disobedient, but there's nothing you can't let your teachers know about. We would keep your secrets, and at least while you are here, your safety."

"What are you suggesting?"

"I'm _worried_ that perhaps the Dark Lord has strict expectations of you, and that you may not know how to balance them. There are different kinds of wizards, Draco, and though I am loathed to admit it, even among those known as dark lords this is so. Gellert Grindelwald was known as a close second to Voldemort, and he was an entirely different sort. "

Malfoy gave a grin that was full of teeth. "Grindelwald is imprisoned. He won't be doing anything for a while."

"Is he," Professor Lupin said mildly. "I suppose it is a mark of our times that I do not know whether that is a good or bad thing. In either case, even as his heir, you do not need to be his clone. You just need to pretend until you are strong enough to make your stand."

"Watch your mouth, Lupin," Malfoy snarled. "You're coming incredibly close to heresy and treachery. We could give you a death curse for this."

If Professor Lupin was moved by the threat, he did not show it. He leaned against an open window of the Owlery and let the snow gather in his old robes. "Whatever I say or do, Draco, the fact that I teach at Hogwarts should tell everyone where my allegiances lie. What I wonder is... what that says about you."

Malfow scowled fiercely and looked as if he wanted to speak but couldn't. Finally, he whirled around to face the wall. "Bloody owl wouldn't be able to carry a letter anyway." He kicked a pile of straw. "And I won't send my own. I'll bloody use a school owl. Now will you get out and let me just bloody owl already?"

"It's a beautiful bird. Healthy and proud. What did you call it that day you threatened to inform your father of your detention? Apollo?"

Malfoy ground his heels into the ground and vehemently decided that Lupin was by far his least favorite teacher at the school.

* * *

"You shouldn't have done it, Padfoot."

"Harry deserves something."

"Harry deserves _everything_, but you know the circumstances right now! You're risking Albus, yourself, and Harry too!"

"And you, Moony."

"Well."

"Are you as angry as you seem?"

"What gave you that idea?"

"I took precautions, you know? They won't trace it back to me. I've made sure. Bloody Hell, now I'm getting angry. I'd never do that to Albus or you and especially not Harry. I wouldn't put them at risk like that. They'll think that Geoffrey Hooper boy had a _Nighthawk_ all along."

"Fine."

"I opened a fake account anyway, just in case they investigate. And besides - "

"I said fine."

"Are you still angry?"

"I'm... Padfoot! Don't you dare! That's cowardly and unfair and... I am so _not_ chasing you! Come back here! Snuffles! "

* * *

"What are you doing here, Black?"

"What did Voldemort want?"

"Get out! This is my wing of the Slytherin dorm! How dare you!"

"Professor Lupin told me what happened. Did Voldemort always owl you so frequently?"

"Professor Lupin, is it? I'd be careful if I were you. You and your sweetheart should be glad his kind joined the right side, or he'd be collared and chained in a cage and sold off to the highest bidder. And you, the way you acted after the war you don't have the means to be the highest bidder. Make me angry, that can change."

"Threaten me again and I'll throw you out the window. Cut the bull. What did Voldemort want?"

"..."

"Well?"

"He asked about Potter. Whether he was receiving special treatment."

"You were real quick to owl him back."

"I had to tell the truth about Potter's fancy new broom, didn't I?"

"You jealous little snake! That was Geoffrey Hooper's old broom! How could that be considered special treatment?"

"Is it an old broom? Well then, isn't it lucky I have an eye for brooms and told him the same thing? Nicely polished up though, isn't it? Think they can win just by giving an old broom a shiny new coat of paint?"

"Let me get this straight. You, Malfoy, little sneaky git produced of a much bigger git, told Voldemort it was an old broom but repainted?"

"I complained about it. I'm not an idiot, Black. I don't know what kind of game the staff here and the Dark Lord are playing, but I've been playing the same sort all my life. I _really_ don't feel like being pulled into this new one. Whatever you're doing, leave me out of it."

"Then... I'm glad you feel that way. I'll see myself out."

"Finally. Oh, Black? Why do you have dirt under your nails?"

"Ah this? This you'll find out when you're a bit older, I suppose. Good night, cousin."

* * *

Author's Note:

...

It's been more than five years and I've no amount of apologies. I can say though that I've learned a lot, traveled, grown, in the meantime and I've hopefully improved as a writer. For all the wonderful people I've kept waiting, I'm sorry and thank you so much for all the support and interest. I hope someone out there is still interested in reading, because though I cannot say when or in what form, I do intend to finish my stories.

... *Will refrain from a rant about my procrastinating tendencies.


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